


Hyperdrive Lullabies

by AkiRah



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Evolving Tags, Hitting On Corso because he gets uncomfortable, Jhonnen Leif (OC), Multi, Pureblood Sith Smuggler, Romance outside the class restrictions, Sarcasm Galore, Smuggler/Ship is the one true pairing, canon compliant (so far)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-03-23 15:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 99,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13790892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiRah/pseuds/AkiRah
Summary: Daring Smuggler Jhonnen Leif runs some stolen guns to Ord Mantell and ends up in what he can only describe as some sort of horrible fucking soap opera.





	1. Gun Runner

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-Out To Inkspot_Fox for beta-ing and for the lend of his smuggler Qeno and his Jedi Knight Katsulas at a few points throughout the story. Double angle brackets indicate non-basic speech. 
> 
> The fic starts out very Smuggler/Risha but that peters off around Chapter 15.

_Let's get this part out of the way. Everyone has a sad bit to their story, and mine… well, isn’t mine. It’s the story of a woman named Isixia, and she was from Dromund Kaas. Things were tough for her— she wasn’t from a good family and, despite being pure red sith, mom never had much in the way of a connection to the Force. But, mom had a couple important things going for her; she was a schemer and she was as lovely as they came, and one day mom bagged the perfect beau._

_They ended up on Nar Shaddaa— business or something, Mom never liked going into detail about who dad was or what he did. All I know for certain is that he was Sith and he was, apparently, an evil fucking madman when he wasn’t quite literally balls deep in my mother._

_I heard this story a lot as a kid. Trust me, I’m no happier about it than you are._

_About four months into their trip mom found out she was pregnant and was ecstatic. With a force-sensitive child came status and security, things she’d only ever dreamt of. Dad was pretty pleased too, looking forward to rearing his own little heir._

_Here’s where things get messy._

_See, I’ve got about as much connection to the force as a rock or my mother, and they figured it out early. Dad found out, planned to kill me to alleviate the shame, and mom did the only thing she could— she took me and she ran. She ran to the only people who might protect her, and those people happened to be Hutts._

_I grew up near the Red Light district here on Nar Shaddaa. Mom’s a dancer and a . . . well a working girl. Drollo is a reasonable sort for an evil slug gangster, as long as we pay our protection fees we can do as we like. It’s steeper than our rent, but we manage._

_And Dad’s never found us. I don’t think he cares enough to look but mom, well she worries._

_The End._

* * *

It wasn’t a large funeral, just Jhonnen and a couple of dancers really. Isixia had never made friends outside of work, and work got shot the fuck up. There wasn’t a body; it had been carted away for evidence and no one had the bribe money to get it back. One of the girls, Vivex, had taken and washed Isixia’s favorite dress and laid it on the bed with some of the fake flowers one of the other girls wore in her hair. 

Jhonnen resisted the urge to comment on how _peaceful_ mom looked. Just like she was _sleeping_. Misery, however, had drained his usual sense of humor for the first time in twenty-four years of life. He cracked no jokes, he failed to smile, he stared at the dress and tried to just be grateful that the last thing he said to his mother was “I love you” even if he’d said it while rolling his eyes. 

They burned the dress in lieu of the body after everyone had said their piece. Jhonnen was offered consolations and hugs and he took them. He endured the well-wishes and the touching and wished that one of _his_ old friends had been present. But they’d gone their own ways years before and he didn’t usually miss them. Now there was no one left. 

Taking a deep breath, Jhonnen looked around the crummy apartment that had been his childhood home after everyone had left. His mother’s jewelry had been on her and was now part of whatever “evidence”, but he found an old holo of the two of them she’d kept on top of her crummy dresser. A beautiful woman with a skinny little boy hugging her arm and grinning. 

He found the money she’d hidden away and took it. The hutts would claim everything else. 

“I love you, mom,” Jhonnen said aloud to the empty room. 

His wait for a reply that wasn’t coming was interrupted by the buzz of his holocomm. He was . . . grateful, he supposed, for the distraction. 

“Yello,” he said, flicking the comm on and forcing a smile for the duros on the other end. “Cliova, what can I do for you.” 

<< Is this a bad time? >>

“Nah, this is fine. What’s up?” 

<< I have a job for you. A customer has requested a large shipment of blasters to be delivered to Ord Mantell as soon as possible. >>

Jhonnen nodded. “What’s the catch?” 

<< The town you’ll be delivering them to has been blockaded by a separatist movement, >> Cliova said. << And the guns are hot. >>

Jhonnen nodded. “Who’s picking them up?” 

<< A crime lord by the name of Viidu, though he’ll likely send one of his boys to actually meet you. >>

“Any _other_ complications?” 

<< No. >>

Besides the fact that he was apparently delivering them to a warzone so he didn’t need to guess how hard it would be getting in and out. He didn’t ask who the guns were stolen from because if he didn’t know he didn’t need to worry. 

Usually he liked worrying. Usually he liked having at least a majority of the details. 

Today though, maybe doing something recklessly suicidal would get his mind off of things. 

“Are the guns being delivered or do I have to go get them?” 

<< I’ve arranged for transport. Once they’re in your hold, they’ll be your problem. >>

“And _you’ve_ been paid.” 

<< You’ll receive payment upon delivery of the cargo. >>

“Sounds like a plan.” Jhonnen took a deep breath. “I’ll be ready to leave within the hour. Pleasure doing business with you.” 

* * *

Ord Mantell was a little shithole of a planet. The air was fresher than that on Nar Shaddaa, however, and Jhonnen drank in a mighty lungful as the airlock disengaged and the ramp to the planet’s surface lowered. He was met by a human male, a good five inches taller than he was, will a spiraling tattoo down the left side of his face. 

“Can’t believe you made it through that separatist shooting gallery, Captain,” the man said with a low, appreciative whistle. “Your ship isn’t even scratched. It takes guts landing in the middle of a battlefield. Nice flying.” 

“Well.” Jhonnen stretched, almost certain he was being buttered up but willing to roll with it for the sake of expediency. He rolled his shoulders back to pop them. Flying through that much artillery had been just a _little_ harrowing. “It’s not easy being the best but, hey, someone’s gotta do it.” He grinned. “And who do I have the pleasure of introducing myself to.” 

“Name’s Skavak,” the man extended a hand for a firm— but not rough— handshake. “I’ll be taking those blasters out of your cargo hold. Excuse the rush but I need to get out of here quick.” 

“What? The artillery fire doesn’t do it for ya?” Jhonnen would have waggled his eyebrows if he’d had them, instead he settled for mimicking the motion and hoping the meaning got through. 

“This village used to be safe, but the separatists are taking over. If I were you, I’d haul jets as soon as we’re done.” 

“Noted,” Jhonnen leaned back against a crate. 

Skavak picked up a datapad and Jhonnen watched the familiar sight of credits being transferred. “Here’s your payment for this run, Captain,” Skavak said, endearing himself to Jhonnen in the way only credits could manage. “Soon as I have those blasters you’ll be free to—” 

“Skavak!” 

The general serenity of getting paid to blaster fire was interrupted at that moment by a man about Jhonnen’s age skidding into the room like a rancor was hot on his ass. He was human, like Skavak. “We’ve got a big problem!” 

Jhonnen eyed the new kid as it was explained, in sharply punctuated language, that the separatists responsible for all the cannon fire had recently reprogrammed the air-defense cannon. 

Which mattered to Jhonnen because that thing was going to make getting the fuck off this dirt ball pretty fucking difficult. 

“Motherless Son of a Hutt,” he grumbled. “ _How_ did they get control of the fucking air defense cannon?”

“Captain this is Corso, Corso, the Captain.” Skavak gestured from one to the other.

“Jhonnen,” Jhonnen corrected, there was no need for formalities if he was going to be ass-deep in blaster fire with either of these men. “What’s a boy like you doin’ in a place like this?” 

Corso stared at him. 

Jhonnen winked and then turned back to Skavak. “Look, I’ll go turn off the remote control whatevers while you two stay here and keep them from taking this base.” 

The base was where his ship was parked, and _The Tick_ was very important. “Skavak, the blasters you want are in the cargo hold, big box. If I die, put me back on my ship and launch her into a sun.” 

“Good luck,” Corso told him, offering a lazy attempt at a salute. “Hope to see you again.” 

“Let’s move, Corso,” Skavak gave Corso a light shove. “We’re running out of time.” 

Jhonnen checked the charge on his blaster before he headed out of the hangar and into the town at large. He ducked behind a wall as some separatists spotted him and fired into them before pulling a small grenade out of one of his many pockets at lobbing it in their general direction. 

Flashbangs were textbook perfection— some mess yes, but mostly a lot of light and noise that stunned the bastards while he shot them. 

Fair fights were for suckers. 

Jhonnen shot up the remote control towers and then blasted his way into the separatist headquarters— at least for this cell— to deprogram the computer. With his gun. Because he was many things but a slicer wasn’t really one of them. 

He was tempted to ignore the holo when it buzzed. But, he didn’t, turning so his back was to the wall and he was facing the stairs with his blaster out, Jhonnen produced a miniature, flickering Corso from his pocket. “Yeah?” 

“We got trouble back at the hangar!” 

“Is my ship alright?” Jhonnen asked _immediately_. 

“For now— but maybe not much longer.” 

Jhonnen started to head for the door, still holding Corso in his right palm. 

“Separatists are busting into the hangar! We’re giving them a warm welcome but we could use a hand!” 

“Literally heading there at this very moment,” Jhonnen pointed out, shooting a separatist in the chest as he rounded a corner, grateful that shooting was one of the few skills he came by honestly. 

“Skavak! Get over here! Help me seal this hangar door! Skavak? What are you— ” 

The line went dead. 

* * *

Jhonnen stood on the hangar floor and stared at the place where his ship used to be. He recalled her with perfect clarity. Every bend, every panel. And now she was gone. 

_But_ there was an actual sentient being bleeding on the floor that Jhonnen _hadn’t_ put there, and that had to take priority, however briefly. Jhonnen knelt next to Corso and pulled his last kolto shot from one of his deep pockets and rammed it into the man’s arm perhaps a little more roughly than strictly necessary. 

“What the fuck happened?” he demanded. “Also are you going to be okay? Where were you shot? _Who the flying Alderaanian fuck has my ship_?” One question bled seamlessly into the next without any chance for an answer to any of the one of them. 

“Thanks for saving my hide, Jhonnen.” 

“ _Where the fuck is my ship_?” 

Corso accepted Jhonnen’s hand to standing. “Skavak helped those separatists get in here. He stabbed us in the back!” 

“He _stole_ my fucking _ship_ ,” Jhonnen clarified, trying to impress upon the obviously concussed other man the _real_ problem. “My _home_ and my _livelihood_.” 

“He—” Corso reached for his side and froze. “Where’s Torchy.” 

Jhonnen gave him a skeptical look. 

“I don’t believe this, Skavak stole my blaster.” 

Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest and tried to determine if he was being mocked or not. A _blaster_ did not hold the same value--material or practical--as a _ship_. _The Tick_ was _home_ and had been for years. 

“Torchy’s a genuine BlasTech ALT-25 with magnatomic--” Corso began to explain and Jhonnen unfolded his arms, content that he was _not_ being mocked, Corso was just obscenely attached to a blaster which, fine, whatever, maybe there was a story there. “He won’t get away with this!” Corso ended his little tirade and produced his holocomm. “C’mon, C’mon!”

Skavak flickered into view wearing a cruel smile. “Aw, what’s the matter Corso? Did I hurt your feelings? Be thankful you’re alive, kid.” 

“I will fucking skin you,” Jhonnen promised. 

Skavak snorted and Jhonnen had to admit that _he’d_ never found holocomm threats particularly menacing. “On behalf of Ord Mantell’s glorious freedom fighters, I thank you for your blasters, your ship, and a big laugh. Have a nice day.” The comm channel cut out. 

“He always was good at making an exit.” Corso said. 

“Well, getting dumped always sucks.” 

“He wasn’t my--I don’t appreciate--”

“Learn. To. Lighten. Up.” Jhonnen advised. He huffed and stared out at the empty landing pad. Skavak was touching his things, he was certain. Rummaging through his belongings, probably chortling. 

He seemed like a chortler. 

Jhonnen checked his pockets and produced the small holo of his mother and himself. He exhaled a sigh of relief. 

“What’dya have there?” Corso asked. 

“Picture of my mother,” Jhonnen answered honestly. Lucky I had it on me.” 

Corso was blessedly quiet for a moment but then looked over and cleared his throat. “Skavak stole my best blaster, but I guess it’s not as bad as losing a whole starship. I feel for you.” 

Jhonnen wanted to shake him. 

_But_ , some of that was _certainly_ just his frustration with the whole fucking ship-theft that Corso wasn’t actually responsible for. 

He exhaled sharply. “Thanks, Kid.” 

“Listen, Skavak and I were working for a guy named Viidu.” 

“Yeah, Viidu bought the blasters.” 

“Well, when he finds out Skavak’s a separatist, he’ll want revenge just like you.” Corso shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do yourself a favor and go talk to Viidu in Fort Garnik. I guarantee he’ll help get your ship back.” 

Jhonnen stared at Corso for a long moment, working out the best way to phrase “I am a criminal” without having to use those words exactly. “Forts,” he hedged, “tend to be full of people I prefer to avoid.” 

“Not to worry,” Corso insisted, all wide-eyed and eager. “The Republic Army runs Fort Garnik, but they let the boss do as he pleases. He keeps their supply lines open.” 

“Ah.” 

“Viidu’s a smart guy with connections everywhere. If anyone can find your ship, it’s him.” 

Jhonnen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not like I have a better idea.” 

“I have to lock down this hangar but I’ll send Viidu a holo and tell him what’s up. I’ll meet you up there.” 

Jhonnen stared at the place where his ship should have been. “Awesome.” 

* * *

Viidu, an overweight human male dressed in comfortable silks, was the sort of crime boss Jhonnen didn’t tend to mind working for. His biggest vice was fine food and drink and he seemed to treat his people with at least nominal respect. 

He was also, Jhonnen noted, a coward and currently very concerned that Jhonnen was not at all concerned about someone named “Rogun the Butcher.” So called because of the swatches of dead he left in his wake behind him. 

Jhonnen had grown up on Nar Shaddaa and learned that crime lords with terrifying names came with the territory and, while it didn’t generally pay to cross them, once they were crossed it didn’t pay to shit oneself when one could be trying to fix it. 

Fixing it in this case involved finding Skavak, the missing blaster shipment and--most importantly-- _The Tick_. 

Jhonnen waited for news in the warehouse, letting his eyes roam and wander over the people and the boxes and piecing together how _this half_ of an operation actually worked. Jhonnen was in the business of delivering goods, not really procuring or storing them. 

“You must be the dashing Captain Viidu mentioned,” said a sultry voice coming up from Jhonnen’s left. He turned and followed the shapely torso up to a pretty, round face on an attractive human female. 

_Lotsa humans_ , he thought and then smiled warmly. “I’ve been known to be dashing on occasion, for the right reason.” He winked. 

“You’re dangerous,” she cooed in response, arms behind her back to make her seem playful and innocent. 

_Not half as dangerous as you are_ , Jhonnen thought, reminding himself not to be taken in and _definitely_ getting the sense that he was being taken in. He was almost grateful when Viidu summoned him back to the office with a plan. 

A man name Reki in the nearby Separatist-controlled village of “Jhonnen Wasn’t Listening” had the schematics to get into a separatist base and _that_ was possibly— probably— where Skavak, the blasters, and _The Tick_ were hidden. All Jhonnen had to do was get to the village, get to Reki, get the information, and blast his way into the base. 

Easy, Right?

Easy enough, anyway. 

He borrowed a speeder from Viidu and zoomed down to the village, depositing the speeder behind the barricade with the Republic soldiers who thought they were paying him to kill separatists. 

To Jhonnen’s dismay, they got their money’s worth. It seemed like he was firing the whole way to Reki’s. Firing and hiding and sneaking until at last he was inside and everything was . . . somehow worse. 

Reki was an older human male, mid-forties maybe, and he had built himself a harem. Some of the women looked quite content, others . . . Jhonnen wasn’t sure about. He thought about his mother and her friends, how they could fake blissful interest to get what they needed. Jhonnen was carrying supplies to trade for information, supplies these women needed for information Reki had. 

His thoughts turned to his blaster, but he had no _proof_ that something was wrong and no time to try and solve it. 

He traded the supplies for the cipher that would give him the schematics he needed and left without a word because he couldn’t for the life of him manage a single civil syllable. 

He returned to Viidu’s warehouse to find Syreena waiting for him and offered her an easy smile. “Waiting for me?” he asked. “I’m flattered.”

“I heard about what happened with Skavak,” Syreena said, oozing sympathy. “Can’t say I’m surprised, I told Viidu not to trust that scoundrel.” 

“But trusting this scoundrel’s alright, right?” 

Syreena chuckled. “So it seems. Viidu’s putting on a brave face for me, but I can tell he’s terrified. Is it bad? Should I be worried?” 

“Nah,” Jhonnen shook his head and tried to radiate confidence, “I’ll protect you, sweetheart.” 

“It’s comforting to know that a _confident_ man like you is taking care of things,” she leaned in, close enough for him to smell her perfume but not close enough to touch. “I feel safer already.” 

She was _definitely_ trying to play him. 

And really, he should mind. Or be offended. Or something. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t keep you any longer, Viidu might get the wrong idea about us.” Syreena pulled away with a little pout. 

“I mean, if he’s going to suspect _anyway_ …” _Damn it Jhonnen_. 

“Like I said,” Syreena smiled at him as she left, “you’re dangerous.” 

_And stupid_ , he thought, watching her leave. _Mostly stupid_. 

* * *

Mannet point was a sack of Manka Cats but Skavak was nowhere to be found. Jhonnen got the data for Viidu and headed back, grateful that at least he was doing _something_ rather than sitting on his ass mourning the loss of his starship. 

“Leave me _alone_ , Bracco.” Syreena’s voice carried when it needed to. “If Viidu knew about this he’d—”

“Viidu?” Bracco was a zabrak male with dark skin and stupid hair and he had Syreena cornered against a crate. “That blob can’t even protect himself. It’s only a matter of time before Rogun the Butcher punches your fat meal ticket for good.” 

Jhonnen leaned up against a crate and let one hand dangle near his blaster, a signal to Syreena that she wasn’t alone. 

“You’d better start thinking about the future, girl,” Bracco moved Syreena’s chin with his fingers. “When Viidu’s gone, you’ll need new friends.” 

Jhonnen cleared his throat. 

“Captain!” Syreena shoved Bracco aside. “Thank goodness, I could use your help here.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with these idiots that a solid beat-down wouldn’t right,” Jhonnen offered. “If you’re interested.” 

“You just picked a fight with the wrong bunch of guys, _pal_ ,” Bracco spat on the warehouse floor. “Any last words? Nevermind— we don’t care.” 

Jhonnen’s blaster was out in a flash and when Bracco and the other gangster pulled their weapons he fired for center mass. 

Bracco hit the floor. His friends hit the ground running. 

“You alright?” Jhonnen asked Syreena. 

“You. . . you killed them all— for me. Thank you, Captain. I don’t know what else to say.” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “If he hadn’t drawn on me I wouldn’t have, I’ve just glad you’re alright,” he was willing to overlook the fact that he’d drawn his blaster _first_. 

Viidu was _less_ than pleased about mess and the subsequent morale problem, but Jhonnen held his ground about his decision to light Bracco and his posse up. The argument was short-lived, Viidu being too worried about Rogun the Butcher to want to really get into it. Jhonnen handed over the datapad and slumped into a chair to wait for the decryption, helping himself to some of Viidu’s Corellian Red Ale as he did. 

It was proving to be a very long couple of days.

* * *

“I’ve got great news, Captain,” Viidu was practically glowing at breakfast. “We cracked the separatist computer and found Skavak.” 

“Viidu,” Syreena complained softly from her seat at Viidu’s side. She put one hand over his, thin fingers curling over fat ones. “You promised you wouldn’t get so excited. It isn’t good for your heart.” 

“Sorry sweetheart,” Viidu kissed her temple, “but this is going to be great. Skavak won’t even see us coming! Hah!” 

“Does he still have my baby?” Jhonnen asked. 

“Your ship _and_ the blasters. Great huh? We’ll get back everything he stole all at once.” Viidu rubbed his hands together with glee. “Skavak is taking the blasters to the separatist base. Those wackos built their headquarters inside an old volcano. Crazy, huh?” 

“Nuts,” Jhonnen agreed, mostly to encourage Viidu to get to the important part, like a location and access codes. 

“Skavak’s delivering the blasters to a psycho named Dareg at the base. You need to get there first.” Viidu beamed. “You ambush him, grab your ship and fly back here. Easy huh?” 

“Easy enough,” Jhonnen said, not sure how exactly he was going to pull off something like _fly his ship out of a volcano base_. Ah fuck it, he’d think of something. “You’re about to see a real live hero.” 

“Make that _two_ heroes,” Viidu gestured to Corso, “I’m not sending you in there alone.”

“I owe Skavak back for taking Torchy,” Corso said by way of explanation, “that was lower than low.” 

“Sure,” Jhonnen nodded, indifferent to the company and antsy to be back behind the helm of his baby. “It’ll be fun, we’ll bond.” 

* * *

Skavak was not a separatist. He was, in fact, just a conniving, lying bastard who used people to get what he wanted without shame or guilt. 

Syreena was every inch as dangerous as Jhonnen had suspected. Moreso, actually, seeing as Jhonnen wouldn’t have thought her capable of actually just shooting Viidu in cold blood. 

It was a _worse_ couple of days than the initial starship theft had lead him to believe. Skavak was gone, fled to Coruscant in _The Tick_. 

Jhonnen kept his blaster aimed at Syreena’s chest through her explanation of what had happened, grateful that she didn’t embarrass herself or him by trying to bat her eyelashes or flirt her way out of the mess she’d caused. 

In the end, she was Skavak’s girl and while Jhonnen thought that made her an _idiot_ it was something he had to respect. 

“When you find Skavak,” she said, looking at the floor after handing over four tickets (two to the fleet via Mantellian shuttle and two to Coruscant via some pleasure barge called _The Esseles_ ). “Go gentle on him. He’s a backstabbing, lying son of a hutt but . . . it’d be nice to see him again.” 

“Syreena,” Jhonnen shook his head. “You’re an evil, venomous little snake and you can do better.” 

“Thanks, Captain, I’ll remember that.”

“Glad it didn’t come to violence,” Corso said as Syreena exited the room. “I’d hate to rough up a woman.” 

“You know she murdered your boss, right?” Jhonnen stared at him like he was an idiot. “Her being a girl has fuck all to do with it.” 

“You’d shoot a woman?” 

“You wouldn’t?” 

“Not if I had another option.” 

“Well sure,” Jhonnen shrugged. “Blaster fire should be a last resort in most cases, I’m just saying that she’s just as dangerous as anyone else. Moreso, if everyone thinks like you do.” 

Corso shook his head. “It’s just not right, shooting women or kids.” 

“Kids, I’ll agree with. Women? Entirely circumstantial.” Jhonnen took two tickets (one to fleet and one to Coruscant) and handed them to Corso, “Thanks for your help.” 

“What if I tag along with you for a while?” Corso asked. “I still wanna pay Skavak back for stealing Torchy.” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “I could use the help. Sure, Kid. Whatever.” 


	2. The Tick(et) To Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen runs around Coruscant on the heels of Skavak--huttfucker and starship thief

Coruscant reminded Jhonnen of Nar Shaddaa if Nar Shaddaa had to dress up nice to please the authorities. The same towering buildings and glittering lights but with less color and less neon. Everything on Coruscant tried to be gold or at least a regally rusted red. It was easier to trust Nar Shadda’s sleaze. 

At least back home you knew what you were getting. Here it all tried to play nice before stabbing you in the back. 

His ident card named him as _Jonathan Leaveson,_ a Republic Citizen. His mom had helped him choose the name when he first left Nar Shaddaa, something close enough to real that he’d remember to answer to it. Jhonnen scanned it and waited, as always, for the scream of alarms to tell him that the system had been upgraded enough that his banthashit was as grounded as he was, but the terminal remained silent. 

“So when’d you defect from the Empire?” Corso asked as they stood in the lift together. 

“I didn’t.” Jhonnen shrugged. “I was born on Nar Shaddaa. I’m not even a Republic citizen.” 

Corso looked at him, like he was trying to process what that meant or changed or _something_. “You’re not?” 

“Nope.” Jhonnen held up his ident card between two fingers. “It’s a fake but a good one.” He tucked the card away. 

“Ever been to Coruscant before?” 

“Once. This your first time off Ord Mantell?” He looked over and Corso glared at him. 

“Don’t go assuming you know everything about my life.” 

“Wasn’t,” Jhonnen said coolly. “The naive farm boy look works on you, just wondering how genuine it is.” 

“Are—--” Corso turned red in the face and sputtered. “Are you hitting on me?” 

“Maybe.” Jhonnen shrugged. “You gonna turn that shade every time I do? Because you’re almost as red as I am.” 

There was a long silence that Jhonnen was positive was awkward for Corso. 

Corso cleared his throat. “You’re not—--” 

“Not what?” 

“You don’t--you’re not attracted to men, are you?” 

“Fuck yes I am.” Jhonnen crossed his arms over his chest, idly wondering if he was going to have to slug Corso one. 

“That’s—” Corso paused to consider his words carefully and Jhonnen felt this was a very good idea on his part. “I’m not.” 

“I guessed.” Jhonnen rolled his eyes. “Chill out, hotstuff, you’re not my type.” 

* * *

Jhonnen didn’t ask _how_ Corso knew Darmas because he didn’t _care_ about how Corso knew Darmas. It was probably through Viidu. Corso had been quiet since their chat in the elevator and Jhonnen was forced to wonder if it was going to be a problem or if it was simply the result of Corso’s worldview being forcibly shoved open. 

He kept claiming he’d left Ord Mantell before and hell, even if he hadn’t, the concept of men loving men or women loving women should have filtered in through the thick mop of dreadlocks. 

Maybe he just hadn’t expected to be _working_ with someone as open about it as Jhonnen was. 

Maybe he just felt like being quiet. 

It didn’t really matter. 

The Dealer’s Den was a respectably sized cantina in one of the slummier parts of Coruscant. Or at least, what Coruscant pretended was a slummier part. The Old Galactic market was still a sight better than Jhonnen’s home neighborhood. 

Corso gave a low, appreciative whistle as they entered. “Wow . . . even the cantinas here are big. Darmas says this is the best watering hole on the planet.” 

Jhonnen nodded absently, his eyes wandering up to the holodancer on her pole before he looked back at Corso. “So where are we meeting your friend?”

“Back at the Sabacc tables.” 

Jhonnen navigated the cantina back to the room where the sabbac games were held, noting with some interest that no one tried to disarm him on the way in. 

“That’s him.” Corso tapped Jhonnen’s shoulder and then pointed to an older human male—blonde this time—surrounded by women. He was finished up a sabacc game and Jhonnen watched him win and the women cheer. 

They seemed earnestly pleased. That was a pleasant change of pace if nothing else. 

Darmas caught eyes with him and then with Corso and gestured with a smile and a tilt of his head to a comfortable arrangement of couches, setting a chip on a waitress’s tray and whispering something in her ear. 

“Welcome, my friend,” Darmas said as Jhonnen joined him at the couches. “I’m Darmas Pollaran, sabacc player and information resource without equal.” 

“Jhonnen.” Jhonnen introduced himself. “And you apparently know Corso,” he gestured to Corso with his thumb. 

Darmas nodded. “Sorry to hear about Viidu. He was a man of refined tastes and a terrible card player. I’ll truly miss him.” Darmas leaned forward, one elbow resting on his knee and his chin on his fist. “Life is like sabacc. The trick is to quit while you’re ahead and enjoy your winnings—exactly how I’ll spend my twilight years.” 

“Can’t argue with that.” 

“With the right preparation and a flexible strategy, a man can be ready for anything life throws at him—even death.” 

Jhonnen thought about his mother, her plans upon plans upon schemes and how she’d _still_ ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time and full of blaster holes. 

The waitress came over and put a whiskey in Jhonnen’s hand. He lifted it in an acknowledging toast to Darmas once Darmas had his drink and took a very small sip, hoping he wasn’t about to get poisoned. 

“Now,” Darmas lowered his whiskey. “I know this isn’t a social call. Corso says you boys have troubles, and I’m prepared to help.” 

“A nasty little hutt fucker named Skavak stole my freighter and brought her here,” Jhonnen explained. 

Darmas nodded. “Corso mentioned a cargo hold full of stolen blasters and the infamous Rogun The Butcher too; my sympathies.”

“‘preciated.” Jhonnen started to wonder if _he_ should be concerned about Rogun The Butcher. He knew the name, obviously, but worrying about it wasn’t likely to prolong his life. Rogun couldn’t come at him sideways—his only relative was dead—and that wasn’t the gangster’s style regardless. 

Rogun would come at him head on, through bounty hunters or personally if he was that pissed off. 

It wasn’t like Jhonnen had a house to burn down, not until he got _The Tick_ back. 

“Skavak is well known in the galactic underworld. He’s earned death sentences across the galaxy for everything from armed robbery to kidnapping.” Darmas took a long drink of his whiskey and Jhonnen followed suit. “He’s known to be in the Sith Empire’s pocket _and_ he even cheats at cards. I’m happy to help you find him.” 

“If there’s one thing I hate”— Jhonnen snorted a bit of a laugh and smiled— “It’s a fuckin’ card cheat.” 

“In my book, if you can only win by cheating you shouldn’t be playing the game at all.” 

Jhonnen wasn’t certain he agreed with _that_ per se. There were lots of times cheating was the only reasonable thing to do. 

Most of those instances were in a fight. 

“As soon as Corso mentioned Skavak’s name,” Darmas continued. “I alerted all my best informants. I’m getting some interesting leads.” 

“What’d I tell you?” Corso said from over the rim of his glass. “Darmas can find out anything. We’ll have Skavak in no time.” 

“How much do you want for your information, Darmas?” 

“Nothing, my friend.” Jhonnen could have sworn Darmas’s eye actually twinkled as he said it. “I couldn’t _live_ with myself, taking advantage of a man who lost his starship.” 

Jhonnen got the distinct impression he was being mocked again, but he wasn’t about to argue with the price. It would cost him _something_ later on, he was certain. But for right now all that mattered was getting _The Tick_ back. Once reunited, he could outrun any problems he caused getting there. 

“Skavak recently used the services of a data slicer named Kixi in the Migrant Merchants’ Guild headquarters. Quite talented, I hear.” 

Jhonnen shook his head and sighed, thinking back to Syreena. “I’ll give him this, fucker apparently has a way with women.” 

“I don’t think it’s a romantic relationship,” Darmas shook his head. “Skavak doesn’t cavort with aliens—even near-humans like Kixi.” 

Jhonnen narrowed his eyes. _Doesn’t cavort with aliens_ was always such a red flag; he wished he’d known before. 

“Kixi might be able to help you flush Skavak out of hiding. Be careful though—the Guild is well armed and doesn’t like outsiders.” 

“Noted. Thanks.” 

“Excuse me, but I notice some delightful young ladies in desperate need of attention. Duty calls.” 

* * *

The politicians were almost as dirty as the crime lords, but Jhonnen couldn’t deny that getting paid to foil them felt nice. He and Corso fought their way through the warzone that had once been the Old Galactic Market and found the Migrant Merchants’ Guild headquarters as promised. 

Kixi’s situation was simpler than Jhonnen had feared. She was a skinny mirialan girl, maybe twenty years old, with a bob haircut and a whole mess of turrets and cameras pointed right at her. Jhonnen holstered his weapon when she turned to face him. “Been monitoring you on the security network. You sure know how to make an entrance.” 

“I aim to please.” Jhonnen gave her a grin. “You look like you’re trapped.” 

“That’s because I am.” Kixi gave an exasperated huff. “Look, whatever issues you’re having with the Guild, I’m on your side. I’m just a slave here.” 

“Easy.” Jhonnen held up a hand, still smiling. “I’m not here to blast you.” 

“Then…” Kixi worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Is there any chance you’re here to free me? Because I’m _definitely_ ready to not be here. The Guild locked me up _two years_ ago. Forced me to work for them. I’ll do anything to get out, what do you need.” 

“I’m looking for this nasty son of a hutt named Skavak. Can you put me on his trail?” Jhonnen asked, kneeling down to inspect one of the turrets. 

“Finding his trail is easy,” Kixi scoffed, “just look for the slime. “I _knew_ that Corellian pig-lizard had ticked off the wrong person. No _wonder_ he was in such a hurry.” 

Jhonnen _liked_ the idea of being the wrong person in this case. It felt cozy. 

“Skavak paid the Guild to clean his identity record. They made me slice into the Republic’s main database and delete all his arrest warrants.” 

Jhonnen snorted. “No fucking wonder he gets around so easily—I’m the only one after him.” 

Kixi shrugged. “He mentioned some Sullustan lawman giving him trouble but, sorry, that’s all I know about Skavaak. Not sure how else to help you.” 

Jhonnen pulled the wires on the first turret and the head bowed down away from Kixi. “Isn’t there some way to figure out where the scumsucker is?” 

“Do you know _how many_ people are on Coruscant?” 

“Corso, see if you can break that camera.” Jhonnen pointed as he knelt by the second turret. 

“It takes a lot for one man to stand out.” Kixi stopped. “Hang on, maybe that’s it!” She turned and began typing furiously. “Take away his spotless identity record and Skavak can’t walk ten meters without attracting attention. He’ll be a lot easier to find.” 

“You’re a genius.” 

Kixi worked while Corso and Jhonnen dismantled the prison and when they were all finished she took a hesitant step down past where the turrets had been and threw her arms around Jhonnen’s neck. “Thank you! You’re my hero.” 

“Hurry up and get out of here.” Jhonnen gave her a very brief squeeze because it seemed like the sort of thing to do in that situation. He turned to Corso. “Sorry you didn’t get a hug.” 

“I’m alright.” 

“I’ll hug you.” 

“I don’t need a hug.” 

“Free hugs.” He opened his arms. “Limited time offer.” 

Corso frowned. “Maybe we should get back to Darmas--see what new info he picks up.” 

“Good call.”

* * *

Darmas put them up that night, offering the spare room in his lavish Coruscanti apartment for their use. Corso elected to sleep on the couch and Jhonnen didn’t mind having the extra space to himself. 

His room on _The Tick_ was right next to the engine so he could listen to her hum while he was sleeping. Coruscant was far from being too quiet, but the noise was _wrong._ It was people and taxis and the buzz of electric lighting. The bed was all wrong. At home Jhonnen slept on a thin mattress set on a metal frame made comfortable by a veritable nest of blankets and pillows that he would burrow into until morning. He missed the dark—light bled in through the thick blinds over the apartment windows. He missed the stillness. 

He missed _his ship_. 

After breakfast they got a tip from Darmas that Skavak had been seen down in Black Sun Territory. Jhonnen groaned. 

And then spent the better part of the morning running from and gunning down gangsters while trying to piece together fragments of a holorecording that _might_ tell him where Skavak had gone.

 _That_ sent him scurrying to the spaceport to try and rescue a sullustan lawman, which was a level of irony that a less frustrated Jhonnen would have appreciated. Jhonnen shot the Black Sun thugs in the back as he advanced to help, catching the lawman in a stand-off with the big Cathar bounty hunter from the holorecording

Urbex or Urbnax or something. Started with a U. 

It was too early for thrilling heroics. Unfortunately time, tide, and gang violence wait for no man. Jhonnen trained his blaster on the bounty hunter and clicked his tongue to get his attention. “Hey there, Urbbie, mind telling me where your pal Skavak skulked off to? My boot and his ass have an intimate date planned. Seriously,” his blaster hummed as it started to warm up, “I bought candles.” 

“This is none of your business, _scum_ ,” Urbax growled, turning to look at Jhonnen and Corso. “Get out while you still can.”

<< Wait, upstanding citizen! Under Article 11607 of the Emergency Service Laws, I hereby deputize you. These men are interfering in a criminal investigation. >>Interjected the lawman in sullutese. 

Jhonnen, blaster still trained on Urbax’s center of mass, turned his head and ran over the words silently to be certain he’d heard them all _and_ in the proper order. He cracked a smile. “That’s funny.” 

<< It was not intended to be humorous. >>

Jhonnen shook his head. “I’m _really_ not the protect and serve type.” 

<< Of course you are. The Planet of Sullust values all sentient life-forms. I am proud to serve with you. Please, upstanding citizen. It is your duty to assist a designated peace officer requesting aid. >>

 _No_ , thought Jhonnen, _it is my duty to_ bail _on peace officers requesting aid._ “Fuck it, I came here to help anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Drop your weapon dirt bag, in the name of a law.” 

Urbax sneered. “You really _are_ as dumb as you look, aren’t you?” 

“Probably,” Jhonnen conceded. He fired as Urbax brought his blaster up in line with his chest. “ _But_ , I’m not the one smoking on the floor _so._ ” He holstered his weapon and turned to the lawman. “You alright?” 

<< I am grateful for your assistance, deputy. I apologize for drafting you into service on short notice, but you performed admirably. >>

“Uh, thanks.” Jhonnen rubbed the back of his neck. “You gonna deputize him too or am I just special?” He indicated Corso with his thumb. 

“I’m fine.” Corso folded his arms over his chest. “Just happy to help.” 

“Suit yourself but if I get a sticker I’m not going to share,” Jhonnen teased. “So, you gotta name, Lawman?” 

<< Forgive me. I have not properly identified myself to you. >> The Sullustan officer drew himself to his full height, coming up to about Jhonnen’s waist.<< I am Officer Miel Muwn of the Sullustan Constable Brigade. >>

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Jonathan Leaveson.” He fell into an easy smile. “Leave my name out of the report though, I like my privacy.”

<< I will note you as an unidentified innocent bystander. >>

“Thanks.” 

<< I have come to Coruscant pursuing a dangerous criminal named— >>

“Skavak?” Jhonnen interrupted. “Yeah, I’m looking for him too. Horrible little banthafucker stole my starship.” 

<< I knew I could not be the only one hunting such a notorious lawbreaker. I propose we cooperate and share resources. Coruscant is large and . . . confusing. >> Miel looked around and shook his head. A very small officer on a very large planet that wasn’t his own. << If I turn up any useful leads on Skavak’s whereabouts, I will contact you. Can I count on you to do the same. >>

“Sure,” Jhonnen said, not entirely certain if he was lying or not. He needed the help definitely, but he didn’t need his ship or anything on it getting labeled _evidence_. 

<< I am glad to finally have an ally on this world. Together, we will bring that lawbreaker to justice. >>

 _Or_ , thought Jhonnen, _I will feed Skavak both of my boots before you get there and wear him like a people suit._

It was a nice thought. 

* * *

Darmas had a lunch spread laid out when Jhonnen and Corso returned to The Dealers Den that afternoon. He had a warm, self-satisfied smile on his mouth and Jhonnen couldn’t tell if he’d won a game of sabacc, gotten laid, or was up to something. 

Possibly all three. 

He also had a tip about Skavak fleeing a fight into Justicar territory. Jhonnen wasn’t looking forward to the idea of a whole city sector crawling with vigilantes, but they couldn’t actually be worse than the gangs back home. 

Besides, he was tightening the noose and getting close to Skavak _and_ , more importantly, _The Tick_. 

He and Corso caught a taxi to the Justicar’s sector and looked around for Darmas’s informants, a brother and sister named Jiik and Juul.

Jhonnen had been prepared for “vigilantes.” Para-military patrols, on the other hand, were a different matter. He was crafty and sneaky and _still_ had to hide behind a wall while he patched a nasty blaster burn in his shoulder. He found Juul but not before Jiik had been hauled off for questioning. Jhonnen shook his head at Juul’s threats and bargaining. “Look kid, I’m gonna rescue your brother anyway. Just tell me where they took him.” 

_This_ lead to Corso and Jhonnen breaking into the Justicar’s prison. It felt bigger than a single city district needed, even _if_ that city district was being controlled by violent thugs with delusions of grandeur. 

Whatever. That wasn’t one of Jhonnen’s numerous (and counting) problems. 

_Unlike_ the sullustan in the first cell who slammed his fists into the force field and chirruped,  << Upstanding Citizen? Hello! Over here! Help me! >>

“Miel,” Jhonnen nodded his head and moved to the control panel to drop the door. “Take it you met the Justicars.” 

<< They are lawbreakers pretending to be peace officers, >>Miel said with an offended trill. << That is a severe criminal offense under Statute 52974 of the Sullustan Criminal Code. >>

“You have the statute memorized?” Jhonnen asked before he could think better of it. The force field fell and a bruised but intact Miel stepped out of his cell. 

<< This is the second time you have come to my aid. I owe you a substantial debt. >>

“Don’t mention it. What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were going to call if you found Skavak.” 

<< I would have, but my holotransmitter was destroyed when Skavak ambushed me down here and fled. The justicars interrupted my pursuit and demanded I surrender. >>

“And you thought they were legit.” 

<< Indeed. >>

“Fucking ow.” 

<< I must re-arm and renew my pursuit of Skavak. Thank you for your help, upstanding citizen. >> Miel saluted. << When I return to Sullust I will file a form 453391 and request and official commendation for your actions today. >>

“Don’t worry about it, just go.” Jhonnen urged. “I’ll catch up.” He turned to Corso once Miel was gone and leered. “A _commendation_. That’s better than a sticker.” 

They found Jiik in the next cell over and let him out. Jhonnen caught the young human male by the shoulders to steady him and offered a warm, encouraging smile. “You alright kid?” 

“It was only a little torture,” Jiik tried for a brave face when his sister flickered onto the holotransmitter to fret over him. He offered up the information that Skavak had taken off with a bunch of Imperials and headed down into the Works, a district below Coruscant proper. 

Jhonnen frowned. His _ship_ wasn’t in the works. Hell, his ship was probably at the spaceport somewhere. Sure it would mean poking through literally hundreds of docking bays each of which sported an impressive guard rotation to keep people from doing precisely what he was thinking about doing. But, assuming he didn’t get caught, he could find _The Tick_ and steal it back. 

Unless Skavak had fucked around with the ignition sequence. 

And even then there was the fact that Jhonnen couldn’t remember having wanted to beat someone’s face in so badly before. 

_And_ Miel had taken off to find Skavak and if he wasn’t prepared for the Justicars the sullustan lawman sure as fuck wasn’t prepared for a bunch of Imps. 

Jhonnen groaned. He _had_ to go into the Works. 

This was Banthashit. 

* * *

“Skavak, _baby,_ ” Jhonnen bellowed as they got within blaster range, his weapon out and his voice ricocheting off the durasteel and bondite walls. “Didja _miss me_?” 

The Imperials all startled but Skavak, to his credit or something, merely pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down at the duracrete floor. “Seriously,” he scoffed. “I admire your persistence, Captain, but this is ridiculous.”

“How do you know this man, Skavak?” the Imperial Commander demanded, moving his blaster between Jhonnen and Corso like he wasn’t sure who to shoot. 

“He’s an acquaintance who can’t take a joke.” 

“And here I thought we had something _special_ ,” Jhonnen batted his eyelashes. “Corso’s been in a tizzy since you left. Think of our child.” 

“You’re not funny.” 

“And you’re gonna be a floor stain when we’re done with you,” Corso snapped. 

“Corso.” Skavak never took his eyes off of Jhonnen. “Heard about your job. Don’t let unemployment make you bitter, all right?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You the one who fouled up my identity record and sent half the galaxy chasing me, Captain? That wasn’t very nice.” 

“You seem like you like it a little rough.” 

“You know, holding on to anger like that will give you health problems.” 

“It’ll give you health problems before it does shit to me, buddy.” 

“Enough of this,” snapped the Imperial Commander, clutching something to his chest. “The captain is _your_ problem, Skavak. Deal with it.” 

“Actually,” Skavak shook his head. “Could _you_ vaporize the captain and Corso for me? I’ve got places to be.” He took off at a run. 

‘SKAVAK! Blast that scoundrel.” 

“I know, right,” Jhonnen shook his head. “So are you gonna let me go or are you _actually_ Skavak’s maid?” 

“You’re not going anywhere and I’ll deal with him soon enough. Men Fi--”

Jhonnen rolled to the side and then sprang up to catch the Commander and one of his officers in the chest. Miel went down and Corso shot the last man still upright. Jhonnen whirled around, thinking to run Skavak down when he caught sight of Miel, lying on the floor clutching his stomach. 

“Shit,” Jhonnen dropped to his side. “Shit shit shit.” 

<< I . . . I do not think I will be filing any more reports . . . >> Miel said weakly. 

Jhonnen shook his head, trying to believe that here at the end of his life the sullustan officer had developed a sense of humor. “Hang on, we’ll get you to a Kolto Tank.” 

<< It is too late for that. I have . . . something that will help you. Skavak’s ship is located in Docking Bay 87. Find him. Bring him to justice, for me. >>

Jhonnen closed his eyes as Miel took one last breath and curled inwards like he could protect his eviscerated organs from further damage by cradling them. 

Jhonnen stood and then walked over to the dead imperials. While Corso watched, horrified, he searched their pockets and stole what money they had, pocketing the large fake ruby the commander had been cradling. 

They caught a taxi to the spaceport in silence. Corso stood guard while Jhonnen put every ounce of slicing know-how he possessed into opening the door to Dock 87. 

Skavak had paid for extra security but they were easily dealt with as Jhonnen closed in on the door that lead to the hangar proper. 

And there she was, gleaming durasteel in the Coruscanti sunset like Skavak had paid to have her freshly detailed. Jhonnen’s heart soared but he kept his blaster out, waiting for Skavak to show himself or try something or for goons to come spilling out of _The Tick’s_ hold. He punched in the door code, holding his breath in anticipation of something bad, and entered cautiously. 

Nothing. Jhonnen exhaled and holstered his weapon. 

For the most part, things were where he’d left them. He checked his room first, resolving to wash _all_ of his bedding after that greaseball had been using it. His clothes had been tossed in a box and Skavak’s belongings spread around the room, but nothing seemed to be missing. 

He headed for the cargo hold to check on the blasters and the other goods he’d been hauling and paused, hand on his blaster, to take in the sight of a human female working at one of the wall consoles, utterly oblivious to his presence. 

_Another_ of Skavak’s girlfriends, no doubt. 

Jhonnen sighed. “This is where you get off, sweetheart,” he said, hand on his blaster but the weapon holstered. “I’m repossessing my property and your little boyfriend took off. I get the feeling he does that.” 

“I’m taking a guess that my life just got a new kind of complicated.” 

“Probably,” Jhonnen nodded. “Not everyday I find a beautiful woman in my cargo hold, but today’s been kind of a bad day all around so you’ll excuse me if I’m not floored with excitement.”

“My name’s Risha,” the woman touched her chest in introduction. “I’ve been traveling with Skavak as part of a business arrangement. He and I had a deal to deliver the things you see here.” 

“Skavak isn’t known for honoring deals of any variation.” 

Risha’s mouth moved into a very small smile that lasted only a fraction of an instant. “Yes, he’s proving unreliable. I think you might make a much better partner.” 

“You’ll forgive the lack of enthusiasm.” Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know you, you’re on my ship, and _Skavak_ put you on my ship. Last time one of his girlfriends was left to her own devices, someone got dead. I’m not overly keen on that someone being me.” He paused to consider. “Or Corso. I guess.” 

“Ew.” Risha wrinkled her nose. “Boyfriend, no.”

“So why should I trust you?” 

“Because I’m willing to _earn_ your trust,” Risha said. “And because if you feel like I’m being fishy you can airlock me. We’ll be in space, there is literally nowhere for me to run.”

“I’m not the airlocking sort.” 

“Then leave me on a tiny moon. The real question is, will you give me the chance to make you rich?” 

Jhonnen opened his mouth to tell her no when there came a beep from the other room. He rolled his eyes. 

“What do you know . . . that’s Skavak on the ship’s holo. This should be an interesting conversation.” 

“Make one wrong move, lady,” Jhonnen warned. Then he affixed a smile to his mouth and headed for the lounge where the holoterminal was. 

Jhonnen answered the holo with a grin. “Skavak, _baby_.” 

“You’re late,” Risha said, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I just made a new friend. I think you two will loathe each other.” 

Jhonnen waved. “Sup.” 

“Congratulations, Jhonnen. You’re _officially_ number one on my list of people to kill. When I get my hands on you, you’ll wish you’d never left Ord Mantell.” 

“That would take some _very_ skilled hands, Skavak. Lucky me you’ve got dexterous fingers.” Jhonnen rolled his eyes. “At least I outrank Corso.” He shrugged. 

“I don’t know how you got away from those Imperials—”

“I shot them. Corso helped.” 

“But next time, I’ll kill you myself. Assuming Rogun the Butcher doesn’t get you first.” Skavak laughed but it was a harsh, angry laugh, no mirth in it at all. “I sold all those blasters you were supposed to deliver for him on Ord Mantell. Can’t imagine he’ll be happy you lost them.” 

“Neat,” said Jhonnen, utterly unsurprised. 

“Do you _honestly_ think you can kill someone like Rogun the Butcher? Where do you—”

“Are you done posturing, Skavak?” Risha asked, her voice clear and carrying. “The Captain and I have cargo to deliver.” 

Skavak whirled on her and snapped, “Don’t even _think_ about cutting me out of this deal, Risha.” 

She smiled. “ _Finders Keepers_ , isn’t that what you always say? Not _my_ fault the Captain beat you to the big prize.” 

“Sweetheart, you two just made the biggest mistake of your lives.” The holo switched off. 

Jhonnen looked at the spot where Skavak had been and considered the very real possibility that Risha and Skavak were playing him. It could all be an act, but Jhonnen’s gut told him it wasn’t. 

And palling around with her sure seemed to piss off Skavak, and that was good for the soul. 

“Alright,” he nodded, promising himself to abandon her and her weird junk at the first sign of duplicitousness. “Tell me what you’ve got.” 

* * *

If Risha and Skavak had been bunking together there was no sign of it. She had all of her personal effects stored in one of the smaller crew bunks. Jhonnen left her to her musings and walked the halls of his baby, one hand on the wall to reassure her that he was home and that he would _never_ let something like that happen again. 

Corso had been fuming when they left Coruscant, unsure why they were running instead of gunning Skavak down. Jhonnen supposed he could understand— the kid wasn’t _much_ younger than he was— but he’d lived his life with his feet on solid ground. He didn’t get the itch the way Jhonnen did, the need for the thick blackness of space and the dull hum of the engine. 

To Corso, home would always be Ord Mantell, even as he professed to hate it and even as he needed to escape it. 

Speaking of, Jhonnen found Corso in the cockpit, staring at the controls like he _wanted_ to touch them but could sense that he’d probably get shot (to wound) over it. 

“So,” Corso said as Jhonnen entered the room. “How’d you end up out here, Captain? Was there ever a time you wanted something more . . . normal? A family? A steady job somewhere you didn’t need a blaster-in-hand?”

Jhonnen shrugged. “Not really. I’m a force-blind pureblood sith from the red light district of Nar Shadda. My mother was a prostitute and a dancer until she was killed in a violent gang shootout about a week before we met.” If he said it all fast enough it wouldn’t have enough time to hurt. “ _This_ is as normal for me as it’s going to get.” 

“Oh.” Corso deflated. “Fair ‘nough.” 

“Some reason you ask?”

“I was just thinking about a guy I met in the Brigade. Mercenary. He’d been fighting for the Republic for twenty-years. I was sixteen, fresh off the ship. This guy gave me my first blaster.” 

“At sixteen,” Jhonnen shook his head. “Responsible.” His head hurt, he’d had a long week. “Look, Corso, here’s what I don’t get, you had the dream, right, loving parents, safe home, and you bailed on it to go fight for the Republic at the ripe old age of 14.” 

“I wanted to do what was right.” Corso’s shoulders squared defensively and Jhonnen shrugged. It wasn’t worth fighting about. 

“What you did was stupid. Vaguely endearing, but stupid,” he shrugged, “but I guess that kind of conviction’s hard enough to come by and there’s no point in riding you about it. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should do the same.” 


	3. The Hunt For The Legendary Asspain Of Nok Drayen Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen, Corso and Risha land on Taris to begin the hunt for Nok Drayen's treasure.

Risha was shrewd, beautiful, and, honestly, a little mean. Jhonnen had a hard time complaining about that after Syreena’s eyelash-batting. He still wasn’t certain he _trusted_ her, but she wasn’t setting off any klaxon warnings in his gut. 

Which was either good or very very bad. 

Regardless, when she told him that the first delivery he had to make was on Taris, Jhonnen considered leaving Corso on the ship to make sure it stayed in one place. Realistically, however, it wouldn’t do him any good. Risha seemed like the sort to just shoot a man dead if he was between her and the thing she needed. 

Which Jhonnen could respect, even if it was presently troubling. 

Taris was trouble enough in its own right. A sith attack some centuries prior had leveled the planet’s surface and that was just an inconvenience. The real problem were the rakghouls: mutated monsters infected with a contagious plague that turned humans— and apparently devaronians— into more rakghouls. Jhonnen couldn’t catch the illness, but he was certainly maulable. 

And he liked being _un_ mauled insofar as it was feasible. 

Corso though, Corso could become a rakghoul and _that_ meant shelling out for the rakghoul vaccine and putting up with a twenty-two year old armed human male who was also irritable and itchy. 

Taris. Was. Awesome. 

“Not much here to enjoy besides skeletons, ruins and man-eating creatures,” Risha said, turning away from the console.

“I can think of worse romantic getaways,” Jhonnen said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “I can also think of better ones.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, flyboy.” Risha rolled her eyes. “And for the record, I prefer my cities intact.” 

“Noted. So, why are _we_ here?” 

“We’re here for an astrogation chart that was in a vault when Taris fell. That vault’s somewhere in these ruins. It was built to withstand anything short of a supernova.” 

“Sturdy,” Jhonnen volunteered, pushing off the wall with his shoulder and stepping into the room so he was closer to her. “How do we find it?” 

“Our lost vault was designed to be recovered after a major catastrophe. All we need are the right sensors to locate it. The catch _is_ , the only person I know with access to those sensors is someone who hates me.” 

Jhonnen’s eyes widened. “That sounds like a story.” 

“Let’s just say she and I have a “history” that I _might_ be willing to share once you and I know each other a little better.” 

“Ex-girlfriend,” Jhonnen said definitively. “It’s written all over your face.” 

Risha’s lips pursed in a scowl. “Something like that. I’ve made her an irresistible offer. One of the deal’s terms is that she doesn’t have to see me. I need _you_ to get that vault’s location, Captain. Impress the stars out of her.” 

“I’m very impressive.”

“What a terrible burden for you,” Risha said with the edge of a laugh. “I should warn you, Skavak knows about the vault. We can’t let him catch up.” 

Jhonnen narrowed his eyes just a little. “I’m curious how you know what Skavak’s up to.” 

Risha looked at him, a narrow smile on her mouth and rolled her eyes. “Skavak wasted a lot of breath trying to talk me into his bunk. It never worked, but I learned a lot about his plans.” She turned her attention back to the console she was working on. “The astrogation chart in that vault is essential to finding Nok Drayen’s riches, Captain. Your contact’s name is Beryl Thorne.” 

* * *

Jhonnen owned _a_ shitty little speeder that had two seats because the back one usually held some manner of package. Today, however, it was going to hold Corso’s ass. 

“Do I have to ride in back?” 

“Yes,” Jhonnen said, throwing the vehicle in neutral and guiding it down the ramp. “If you’ve got the credits, you can always buy your own.” He paused and chuckled. 

“What?” 

“Long story, bad joke.” He shrugged. “Long story short, you’re the total package Corso.” 

“What?” Corso said, this time sounding more alarmed than anything. 

“Because I haul packages around on my speeder.” 

Talking, Jhonnen walked out almost literally into a customs agent. Jhonnen had about _two seconds_ to be relieved that Skavak had sold the crate of illegal blasters before his attention was drawn to the agent in charge. A human male name Soganti. 

“What brings you to my planet, Captain?”

“Last I checked,” Jhonnen said, feeling just a little cheeky, “Taris was Republic territory.” He wondered if he was getting randomly searched because he was Sith. It wouldn't be the first time. 

Maybe Risha had paperwork for all her junk. 

She probably didn’t.

“When you have as many responsibilities as I do, you develop a sense of ownership about a planet,” Agent Soganti explained, seemingly oblivious to Jhonnen’s distraction. “The Republic Customs Office monitors all starship traffic and ensures no illegal goods are transported on or off this planet. There’s a lot of contraband making its way around Taris. If you see anything _suspicious_ , I _suggest_ you report it immediately.” 

“I sincerely have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Jhonnen lied. “Honest.” 

“Uh-huh,” Soganti’s eyes narrowed and the ‘helpful officer’ act dropped like a tonne of duracrete. “You have ‘solid citizen’ written all over you.” He stood up a little straighter. “I take a special interest in every new arrival to my planet, Captain. Keep your nose clean and we won’t have any trouble, clear?” 

“You give this speech to everyone or do I _stand out_?” Jhonnen asked, aware that picking a fight with a customs officer in front of his ship load of contraband was a stupid decision. 

“Just the ones I think need to hear it,” Soganti said, nostrils flaring subtly. “Welcome to Taris.” 

Jhonnen watched the customs officers leave and snorted his disdain. “C’mon Corso, we’d better find that astrogation chart fast, before someone takes an unhealthy interest in our activities. 

Olaris was a mess, two parts military base camp one part colony. Jhonnen felt the eyes stick on the back of his neck at the sun hit the bone spurs that dripped elegantly down his chin. This was the problem with operating in Republic space. At least in Imperial space he could blend in until he opened his mouth. And no one in Hutt space gave two shits. 

“I should buy a fucking hood,” he mused aloud. “Maybe I could pass as a zabrak jedi until they saw the face.” 

“You say something, Jhonnen?” Corso asked. 

“Nah.” Jhonnen shook his head. “Let’s go find this Beryl chick.” 

Beryl was yet another human female, blonde this time, with a scar down her right cheek. She looked up from what she was doing when he entered the room, Corso waiting outside as a lookout and trying to approximate _looking casual_. 

“I’m looking for Beryl Thorne,” Jhonnen said. 

“That’s me. AR-GO’s what passes for my second-in-command,” she indicated the droid shuffling small boxes around. “I recognize you from Risha’s holo.” 

“Jhonnen, pleased to meet you.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. The _only_ reason I agreed to help is because my contract supplying the Taris reclamation project is at risk.” Beryl huffed. “Looked like easy credits. _Turns out_ , Taris is anything but easy and there are lots of interesting ways to die.” 

“Sounds bad.” 

“I don’t finish my contract, I don’t get paid. Tyrodall—my partner—died on a supply run. Put me in a real bind.” Beryl’s arms hung limp at her sides but her eyes were full of fire. He could see what Risha had seen in her, beautiful and spirited. “I’ll find that vault, but I have to finish my contract to do it. You work for me and I’ll work for you. Deal?” 

“Deal.” Jhonnen agreed. “What do you need from me.” 

“Just a couple of deliveries, the first one’s on the table. It’s heading to a Republic scientist named—” she cut herself off as the sound of boots echoed through the warehouse. 

“Hello again, Captain,” Agent Soganti said in a perversely cheerful tone, leaving Jhonnen wondering what he’d been caught at because, for once, he wasn’t doing anything. “I didn’t know you and Miss Thorne were acquainted.” 

“Agent Soganti,” Beryl said, narrowing avoiding gritting her teeth. “What a lovely surprise. It’s only been a day since your last inquis—inspection.” 

Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest and rested his weight on one side while Beryl politely protested the customs agents as they began rifling through the warehouse for what Jhonnen suspected was the third time that week. 

“You’d better go make that delivery,” Beryl told him. 

“Leaving you alone with this guy would kinda make me an asshole, don’t you think?” 

“It would make you a very clever man,” Beryl smiled at him. “But go on, I can handle myself.” 

* * *

Risha had connections and Jhonnen was visibly impressed by it Sure, Beryl hated Risha for reasons Jhonnen had every intention of figuring out (it was important to know who was on his ship and how likely they were to try and kill him. Also, if he was being honest, Jhonnen was just plain nosy) but Sergeant Klewer seemed perfectly happy extorting minor labor from Jhonnen in exchange for a fairly impressive favor. 

He needed the Customs office off his dick, and maybe, probably not but maybe, it would make things just a little easier on Beryl.

Who was definitely up to something but that might have been, probably wasn’t but might have been, simple guilt by association. 

After all, he was definitely up to something. And who knew what Risha was really up to? 

With Corso on the back of the speeder, Jhonnen headed to the coordinates given and snuck around the pirate camps to sabotage and blow up their weapon caches. 

He returned to Klewer and handed over the package from Beryl in exchange for a _second_ package to be delivered to some guy named Ovold and the warm, fuzzy knowledge that someone had lied enough to convince customs that he had full diplomatic access to the planet. 

He looked at the sealed package and handed it to Corso for safe keeping while he headed towards the coordinates of this Ovold person and one step closer to whatever game Beryl was running. 

_Ovold_ was a nutter who bonded his goggles to his skull with industrial strength adhesive. But hey, it takes all types to make a world. The annoying part was that he sent Jhonnen on yet another fetch quest because his camp—and thus the core samples for Beryl—had gotten hit by scavengers. 

“Man,” Jhonnen huffed. “If she weren’t hot and I didn’t need that astrogation chart.” 

“Wait,” Corso blinked at him. “You think she’s hot?” 

“Do you _not_?” Jhonnen leveled a skeptical look at Corso. “Those big blue eyes, that figure? The way she looks at you like she wants to cut you--she has _that_ in common with Risha at least.” 

“My folks taught me not to look at women that way.” 

“No, your folks taught you not to talk about it.” Jhonnen turned his attention back to the path in front of them and turned the speeder on. “They probably taught you that sex is dirty.” 

“That ain’t the—point is, I thought you were . . . gay.” 

Jhonnen snorted. “The word you’re looking for, Corso, is _bisexual_.” 

* * *

Beryl was, in fact, up to something. It was a smuggling gig. 

Jhonnen wondered idly if he was supposed to be mad about that, but he wasn’t and he also wasn’t _surprised_. It at least explained why Agent Soganti was on Beryl’s ass. His presence wasn’t going to make things any easier on her, he needed to wrap up his business and jet before they got one another in trouble. 

Unfortunately, there was a devaronian in his way. And last Jhonnen checked, Tyrodall was supposed be dead or a rakghoul and/or rakghoul dinner. He was none of those things and he explained himself with what could easily be summed up with “Beryl and I were smuggling shit off world, I want more money, blah blah women are soft.” 

Jhonnen gave him an unimpressed look that persisted through the explanation that he had turned the smuggling ring into a _forging_ ring to make more money. It was clever, sure, but faking your own death to undercut a business partner was dirty.

Not _unreasonably_ dirty, but dirty. 

And Beryl had been selling the relics back to the families that had lost Taris centuries ago, it was sweet. 

Jhonnen had a soft spot for sweet and that soft spot turned into a blaster hole in Tyrodall’s chest when the other smuggler signaled the droids to attack. He gathered the “core samples” and headed back to Ovold with the gear and then to Beryl’s warehouse with Corso tagging along behind him. 

* * *

Beryl actually smiled at him when he entered the warehouse. “I can count the number of times I’ve been truly impressed in my life on one hand, Captain.” Her teeth scraped over her lower lip. “Congratulations. You walking in with those core samples just got added to the list.” 

“I _always_ deliver,” Jhonnen promised and then winked for good measure. 

Beryl chuckled, the core samples having apparently brightened her mood substantially. “Shame to see a man like you wasted on Risha.” 

“Risha and I are all business,” he promised. “She seems the business-y sort.” 

Beryl snorted. “ _That’s_ true at least.” She picked up her datapad from off the table while AR-GO complained about the humidity. “Hey, look at that—the Republic just updated my contract log as ‘complete’.” She grinned. “And right on time, my spaceport friend just granted me access to the Republic sensor array. Let’s find us a vault.” 

She scrolled through the data, eyes widening and narrowing as she parsed the information together into something useful. “A-ha! There it is!” The excitement died on her face. “Oh . . . your vault is in Zone Zero. That’s bad.” 

“Help me out here,” Jhonnen said, “I’m not exactly a local.” 

“Zone Zero’s a no-man’s land,” Beryl said, mouth tucked to a frown on the side of her face. “Apparently it's overrun with things worse than rakghouls. Nobody goes there.” 

“Seeing as I’m doomed to fail, how ‘bout a kiss for good luck.” He gave her a cheeky grin so she knew he was mostly kidding. 

Beryl grinned at him, rolling her eyes as she turned. “I’ll ask but AR-GO’s really picky about his men.” 

“Well I’m really picky about my droids, should be a match made in Corellian Heaven.” 

AR-GO’s complaint was drowned out in the laughter. Jhonnen extended a hand for a shake. “Nice meeting you, Beryl.” 

“You’ll need serious hardware to crack that vault,” Beryl took his hand but didn’t let go. “Risha’s good at getting into places she’s not supposed to, maybe talk to her.” 

“When you say _places she’s not supposed to_ …” Jhonnen tilted his head. “I have to ask. What the fuck did she do?” 

“ _If_ you make it back, I’ll get into it,” Beryl promised. “Until then, it’s been interesting knowing you, Captain. Have fun out there.” _Now_ she shook his hand and let go of him. 

“Fun.” Jhonnen rolled his eyes. “My thoughts exactly.” 

He left the warehouse and met up with Corso outside. They stood there in the dying Tarisian sunlight and Jhonnen stretched. “I’m not wading into a rakghoul nest in the dark,” he said. “We’ll pick this shit up in the morning.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Captain.” 

“For the love of fuck, Corso, just use my damn name,” Jhonnen grinned at him. “We’re sorta roommates.” He paused. “Actually I think I’m technically your landlord.” He sighed. “Look, if I hit the cantina they’ll overcharge my candy red ass. Can you pick up dinner for three and meet me back at the ship? I’m gonna talk to Risha and then tuck in with a fucking vid.” 

“Sure thing.” Corso headed for the Cantina and Jhonnen wondered if Corso’s farm-fed country boy routine would get them a discount or scammed. In either case it was better than showing up as a red sith on a republic base. 

People got . . . antsy. 

He headed back to _The Tick_ and leaned against the cargo hold door to watch Risha work. He wasn’t sure what she was constantly typing _about_ but as long as he was trying to trust her he decided not to pry. 

Mutual trust was the key apparently, and whatever else might be true he didn’t think she was dumb enough to do anything that would get her dropped off on _Taris_ of all places. “Beryl says hi.” 

“No she didn’t.” Risha replied without looking up. “Did you find the vault? We’re in a hurry and our ‘diplomatic immunity’ won’t hold forever.” She pushed off of the console and turned to face him, Jhonnen descended the steps into the cargo hold himself. “I eavesdropped on Skavak and some mercenaries over an encrypted channel. They’re trying to beat us to the vault. Sounds like they’re closing in.” 

Well, that explained what she was doing, at least. “The vault’s in Zone Zero,” Jhonnen said, folding his arms over his chest, “which is ass-deep in rakghoul territory, so I’ll be doing that _in the morning_.” His expression brightened. “Corso’s coming with food; care to take your meal with us, maybe catch a shitty vid?” 

Risha stared at him. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah. If the mercs are dumb enough to wander around rakghoul territory in the dark, that’s on them. I prefer my ass unchewed.” 

“Tomorrow, get to the vault as fast as you can, then open the lock with this Geonosian slicer module,” she produced a thin device from the pocket of her long coat. “It took me _months_ to trade for this. Don’t lose it.” 

Jhonnen looked at the slicer module for a long moment. “You know, Beryl seems to think you’ll turn on me. Any reason for that?”

Risha narrowed her eyes. “She’s bitter about something that happened a long time ago. Forget about her.” 

“I don’t think so. You want me to trust you, fine, but I need to know what happened.” He took the module before she could take it back. “Because I need to know what you did to her so I know it won’t happen to me.” 

“You _really_ want to do this now.” 

“Figured now’s better than when Corso gets back.” Jhonnen tucked the module into a pocket.

“ _Fine_. A few years ago, Beryl and I robbed an Imperial treasury station. The heist went bad. I escaped, Beryl didn’t. She blames me for not rescuing her from the Imperials.” 

“Any particular reason you _didn’t_ rescue your, I’m assuming girlfriend, from the Imperials?” 

Risha shrugged. “I was saving my own skin. I don’t apologize for that. Regardless, I don’t work with walking liabilities anymore, that’s why I’m with you.”

Jhonnen’s retort was cut short by Corso’s return and the loud bellow of “Food!” that echoed through _The_ _Tick’s_ corridors. He looked back to Risha and shrugged. “Joining us?” 

“Think I’ll sit this one out, flyboy. Thanks though.” 

* * *

Agent Soganti stopped Jhonnen and Corso as they were pulling the speeder down the ramp the next morning. Jhonnen yawned, one cup of caf was not enough to make dealing with Customs officers anywhere near pleasant. 

“Remember me?” Soganti asked. “Agent Soganti with the Republic Customs Office. I have some questions about Beryl Thorne.” 

Jhonnen scowled. “I’m a little busy right now. Could ya come back later?” 

“This won’t take long,” Soganti’s expression sharpened. “And it’s _not_ a request. I suspect Thorne is smuggling relics, and I think I know how she’s doing it. What I lack is proof. I need someone to step forward and testify so I can arrest her. I’m looking for an _honest_ citizen, Captain.” 

It was on the tip of Jhonnen’s tongue to point out that he _wasn’t_ a Republic Citizen, but he had enough brainpower to realize that that would just make everything worse. Instead what bubbled out of his mouth was, “Beryl’s not doing anything wrong.” 

Soganti scowled. “If I catch you covering for her . . . well, let’s not consider the _ugly_ implications.” 

And now Jhonnen had been threatened. He dug his metaphorical heels in and waited to be pushed. 

“I’m authorized to pay a generous sum for any lead resulting in an arrest. Think about what’s best for _you_.” Soganti straightened. “Are you _absolutely sure_ you don’t know _anything_ about Beryl Thorne’s criminal activities.” 

“I’m sure, _Officer_ ,” Jhonnen let the words drip with sarcasm. “Can I go now?” 

“Go on,” Soganti snorted. “Have a good laugh—while you can. Nobody escapes justice forever.” 

“Peachy, can I go?” 

“Nobody.” 

“Uh-huh.” Jhonnen looked down at and made a show of cleaning his nails until Soganti and his ~~cronies~~ men had left the hangar. “Pop inside and tell Risha to expect company, that fucker’s not going to give up. Then meet me at Beryl’s, someone’s gotta warn her.” 

Corso nodded. “I don’t want that sweet lady getting caught.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

Jhonnen made his way into the warehouse at a relaxed pace, knowing from experience that authorities tended to be attracted to quick, jerky movements. 

Or maybe that was nexu. 

It applied in any case. 

He headed upstairs to where Beryl was stacking cargo pods atop of one another and cleared his throat to get her attention, offering small wave and a smile once he had it. 

“Didn’t expect to see you again,” Beryl admitted. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Customs is onto you. I think I’ve kept them off your ass for now, but you’re gonna want to haul jets out of here as soon as you can.” 

Beryl stared at him for a minute. “You have the vault’s coordinates. You didn’t have to come warn me but you did.” 

“Seemed like the thing to do.” Jhonnen shrugged.

“Where I come from, the best friends are the ones who lie for you.” Beryl smiled and took a few steps towards him. Her hand found his, fingers lacing with his red ones as he moved to take her hand. “I guess you’re a better friend than I thought.” 

“Oh I can be very friendly.” Jhonnen muttered.

“Still want that kiss for good luck?” 

“I need all the luck I can get.” 

Beryl’s mouth was insistent when it touched his, she moved his hand to her waist and stepped into him, one arm around his shoulders and neck and the other at his waist to hold him snug against her. 

It was a hell of a kiss and Jhonnen almost didn’t hear the disapproving throat clearing that heralded Corso walking in on them. 

He planted a smaller, lighter kiss on Beryl’s mouth when they parted and turned to shrug at Corso.

“Wish we had more time.” Beryl’s fingers curled in Jhonnen’s shirt. “But I’d better get going.” 

“Glad we’re parting as friends,” Jhonnen told her, a little dazed. 

“Risha doesn’t deserve a partner like you.” She flicked one of his chin tendrils. “Watch your back, alright?” 

“You too, Beryl.” 

Outside, Corso gave him a strange look, a frown on his features. “What was that about?” 

“Good luck kiss,” Jhonnen grinned, feeling _very_ lucky indeed. “Why, you want one?” 

“You’re not funny.” 

“I can still taste her lipgloss, Corso. Being funny is the absolute least of my concerns right now,” he beamed. “Kiss like that almost makes our inevitable death worthwhile.” 

* * *

Jhonnen and Corso found the vault at the end of the rakghoul tunnels by moving very cautiously and being a _little_ over generous with the thermal detonators Jhonnen carried in case of emergency. They found the mercenaries Risha had mentioned near the vault itself lead by a cyborg with a mohawk and full eye and chin implants. 

“What the—” the mercenary demanded, “Who the—? How’d you—?” 

“Hiya,” Jhonnen answered with a cheeky wave. “What’s up.” 

“You’re not supposed to be here!” The mercenary shouted. “We’ve been through ten kinds of pain getting to this vault and _not_ to watch you open it first.” He produced his holo comm and Jhonnen leaned his weight to one side in a more relaxed pose. 

“Skavak, you there?” The mercenary said as a miniature Skavak came to life in his palm. “You want to see this, boss. We’re at the vault but we’re not alone.” 

Skavak—in miniature—turned his attention onto Jhonnen, who gave him a little wave and blew a kiss at him. 

“Too perfect,” Skavak laughed. “I love it when everything comes together like this. How’s life treating you, Captain? You enjoying my ship?”

“My ship,” Jhonnen corrected. 

“And all my stuff?” 

“My stuff, well, some of it’s Risha’s I guess.” 

“And how _is_ that two-faced bitch doing?” 

“She’s great,” Jhonnen grinned. “Thanks for asking.” 

Skavak scoffed. “You expect me to believe you melted that snow queen? Come on. She’s looking for a real man.” 

“Actually I’m pretty sure she’s looking for a payday.” Jhonnen shrugged. “To each their own.” 

“You know I still owe you for that mess on Coruscant. You have any idea the grief I’m taking? Why don’t you just die already?” 

Jhonnen clicked his tongue and shrugged. “Scheduling conflicts. I’ve gotta get filthy fucking rich first, you know how it is. Maybe later.” 

Skavak turned his attention back to the mercenaries and gave the utterly predictable order to kill Jhonnen and Corso as painfully as possible. Jhonnen rolled his eyes and then rolled a flashbang towards the trio of gunmen, tackling Corso to the ground at the last minute. Half-deaf, Jhonnen pulled his blaster and fired into the stunned goons. He shook his head until the ringing stopped and looked to make sure Corso was alright. “Remind me to never do that in an enclosed space again,” he shouted. 

“What?” Corso shouted back. 

Risha’s slicer module worked like a dream and Jhonnen recovered the astrogation charts without much fuss before leading Corso back out of the tunnels the way they’d entered them. 

The one nice thing about wide, open, rural planets was that no one had touched the speeder Jhonnen had left near the tunnel entrance. He turned to Corso and asked, “Can you hear again?” 

“Yeah.” Corso nodded and then shook his head like an akkdog trying to dislodge water. “Can’t get the damn ringing to stop.” 

“That’ll probably fade,” Jhonnen offered. “Probably.” 

* * *

They returned to _The Tick_ and Corso went to lie down while Jhonnen took them off world. Liftoff attracted Risha’s attention and she came to find him, leaning back against the wall like she owned the place. “You got the astrogation chart, didn’t you?” Her eyes widened just a little and he could almost swear she looked impressed. “I can tell by the look on your face.” 

“Also probably by the fact that I’ve gotten us cleared for take off so we can leave Taris behind, I bet,” Jhonnen teased. “Did you ever doubt me?” 

“If I did, you’ve just made me a believer for life.” She took the chart as Jhonnen held it up for her.

He cleared his throat and held up the slicer module. “Here.” 

“Thanks.”

Jhonnen set the ship to hover in orbit and stretched out in his chair. “Where to next?” 

“Nar Shaddaa,” Risha told him. “I understand you’re familiar with it.” 

Jhonnen snorted a small laugh. “Yeah, yeah I am.” 


	4. Home Sweet Hive of Scum And Villainy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen returns to Nar Shaddaa for the first time since his mother's death.

“I never like asking for favors, Jhonnen,” Corso said as they neared the Nal Hutta system. A sentence like that _always_ heralded someone asking for a favor. “But I think maybe we know each other well enough by now.” 

“Probably,” Jhonnen agreed. “What’s the favor?”

“I want to look for my cousin Rona. She’s all the family I got left, and I think she should know what happened.” 

Jhonnen nodded. It was more than reasonable, particularly seeing as Rona’s parents had also probably died in a separatist raid if Corso was convinced she was the _only_ family he had any longer. “Sure.” 

“Thank you. Rona came with me when I left for the brigade but she jumped ship at the first port. All she ever wanted was to get off Ord Mantell.” 

“Having been to Ord Mantell, I don’t blame her.” Jhonnen leaned back in his seat. “You know where she is?” 

Corso shook his head. “I thought maybe we could track her down. You’d like her, she’s really the reason I’m here.” 

“What, you’re not just sticking around for my hot bod and winning personality?” Jhonnen touched his throat like he was gripping a necklace. “I’m hurt.”

“Rona was kind of our family rebel. We used to have a blast together. She liked me to run interference so her father never caught her on dates with offworlders.” 

_You were a patsy_ , Jhonnen thought but had just enough tact not to say. “Can’t wait to meet her.” 

* * *

Nar Shaddaa _wasn’t_ home any longer, and Jhonnen was clear about that with himself and with everyone else. Home was _The Tick_. 

However, Nar Shadda _had_ been home for long enough that Jhonnen still got a warm, familiar glimmer when the big yellow moon roared into sight as _The Tick_ fell out of hyperdrive. The joy was muffled by the reminder that this time Isixia wasn’t there to greet him. He couldn’t simply holo and have her meet him at the apartment, use some of the credits he had saved up to take her out somewhere to eat. Wouldn’t get the latest gossip. 

Isixia was dead. 

She’d been dead for well over a month. 

Jhonnen swiped stubbornly at his eyes, feeling the first hints of moisture at the corners. He didn’t have a problem with crying, but Risha could smell weakness and Corso would try and… help. Probably by attempting some sort of macho “man up” speech and then Jhonnen would be obligated to break his nose. 

Bad times all around. 

With any luck, they wouldn’t have to hang out around Nar Shaddaa for very long; there were too many memories he wanted to avoid. 

He directed _The Tick_ towards Deucalon Spaceport and buzzed the intercom system twice to let Corso and Risha know they were coming in for a landing. 

Risha met him in the lounge as _The Tick_ after he’d parked. He grinned at her to distract from the lingering trace of moisture around his eyes. “Ever been to Nar Shaddaa? Maybe I could give you the tour.” 

Risha rolled her eyes. “Nice try, but this is home and we’re here on business, _not_ pleasure.” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “So, what _is_ our business here?” 

“There’s a hutt named Drooga”— she waited for the barest nod of recognition from Jhonnen before continuing— “who has a prototype starship engine. We need it to find Nok Drayen’s fortune.” She gestured back towards the cargo hold. “Drooga and I made a deal. He’ll trade the starship engine for the caged beast I have in there.” 

“And why, exactly, would he do that?” 

“It’s the last male shanjaru in the galaxy. The species is pretty much extinct. _That_ makes it valuable.” Risha had a gift when it came to saying everything like she was speaking to an idiot. “Drooga’s hosting a giant moving party on his ‘pleasure barge’. It stops periodically at different locations. Right now it’s on the Promenade.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve sent Drooga several messages, but he never replied. You’ll have to make contact the old fashioned way.” 

“Mom always warned me about Hutt pleasure barges,” Jhonnen mused. “Sounds like fun. You wanna tag along for this or not?”

“I’ll pass, there’re one or two loose ends I need to tie up and _someone_ should keep an ear to the ground for Skavak.” 

“I’ll take Corso then, maybe show him the nightlife.” 

“Before you go, one more thing…I know there’s a price on your head from Rogun the Butcher over some business on Ord Mantell. Word on the holonet is, Rogun’s personal bounty hunter is here on Nar Shaddaa. His name’s Zank Helrott. Watch out for him.” 

“Thanks for the heads up. You think he’s here for me?” 

“It could just be a coincidence, but better safe than sorry.” Risha let her hand graze the top of the couch as she headed back towards the cargo hold. “The sooner we finish our business with Drooga, the sooner we can be someplace Zank Helrott isn’t.” She gave him a small, cruel smile. “Have fun at the party.” 

“Hutt parties aren’t really my idea of a good time,” Jhonnen told her. 

“Ever been to one?” Risha challenged, but then again, everything that came out of her mouth was a challenge. 

Jhonnen shrugged. He considered pointing out that his mother had been a favorite at Drollo’s parties and she never seemed to _enjoy_ them. But he didn’t trust Risha enough to want to get into the backstory. “I’m a low brow sorta guy, fancy parties have never really been my thing.” 

“Pity.” Risha gave him a cruel sliver of a smile. “I love them.”

Jhonnen left Risha and headed for the holoterminal. 

On Coruscant he’d thought that there was no way to come at him sideways. Even if Rogun went after his oldest friends—who he hadn’t seen in years—Kira was a force sensitive with a mean streak. His mother was dead. Mako had been picked up when they were small. Anuli was in the pocket of the Cartel, virtually untouchable if he was still playing his cards right. 

But there were the dancers, expendable and vulnerable, his collection of not-quite aunts and uncles from Isixia’s work. Even if this Zank didn’t kill them, he could rough them up something bad. 

And Anuli would sell Jhonnen out. 

The dancers might not, out of loyalty to his mother. 

He took a deep breath to sooth his anxiety and then dialed and waited and then smiled when a scantily clad Nautalian woman a decade older than he was answered. 

“Jhonny?” she asked in a watery voice.

“Vivex,” Jhonnen inclined his head respectfully. “Sorry for the call but I’m glad I caught you. Looks like I picked up some undue heat on Ord Mantell and it tracked me here. I want you and the girls to stay safe, all right?” 

“What sort of heat?” 

“Some gangster thinks I stole his shipment of blasters—” Vivex raised an eyebrow, “—which I _didn’t_. It’s a long story. The bounty hunter’s name is Zanks. Give him whatever he needs to keep yourself out of trouble and pass it along.” He folded his arms over his chest, “Mom’ll—” he choked, “Mom _would_ kill me if my troubles fell on any of you.” 

“Thank you, Jhonny,” Vivex smiled at him from a hundred miles away. “Try not to die.” 

“Always plan A.” He ended the call and turned to give Corso a look that clearly said _what?_

“That was a fine thing you did there, Captain. Wouldn’t want any of those nice ladies getting hurt over our business.” 

Jhonnen blinked at him. “They weren’t just women, Corso. And I did it because it was the right thing to do.” 

“Yeah but—”

“They could have been mercenary bastards and the only difference is that I would trust mercenary bastards—regardless of gender—over cantina dancers—regardless of gender—to murder a bounty hunter without grievous injury. Mom would—” he took a breath “when I got into this game mom told me never to track it into the house. Those dancers are the house.”

* * *

Jhonnen had only been gone about a month and Nar Shaddaa never changed. He lead Corso down the ramp and slid a bribe to the woman who ran what passed for customs, noting that the rates had stayed level. 

“So this is where you’re from,” Corso asked in the elevator. “The Smuggler’s Moon.” 

“Yep,” Jhonnen nodded. “This is as close to home as a planet gets. Ever been here before?” 

“Stuck to Republic Space when I was with the Brigade.”

“You missed out,” Jhonnen said with a shrug. “Just stick close or you will definitely, _definitely_ get robbed.” It wasn’t a sure thing, but Corso looked like a mark. And he talked like a mark. And he walked like a mark. And it wasn’t a sure thing but nothing on Nar Shaddaa but the Hutts were a sure thing. 

“Ever been to the Promenade?” Corso asked as they exited the elevator, hanging close to Jhonnen’s right side. “Where we’re going?” 

“Yep. Used to pick pockets near the taxi service. And I met my first love the first time I had the credits to hit Club Vertica.” Jhonnen paused. “ _Love_ is a strong word I guess, but I lost my virginity and won enough credits to finish the down payment on _The Tick_ so it’s a happy memory.” 

Corso was staring at him again. 

“What _this time_?” 

“Lost your virginity without being in love?” 

“I was a trophy boy and a good luck charm for a whole evening, Corso—well, more like a weekend. It was fun and sometimes we still chat over holo. Stick around and you’ll probably meet her someday.” 

Corso looked like he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Jhonnen shrugged and kept walking. 

The Promenade glittered and gleamed when Jhonnen and Corso disembarked the taxi and Jhonnen started looking around the pleasure barges for any sign of Drooga the Hutt. What they found instead was a distraught ithorian and the news that Drooga had taken the barge to the Nikto sector, probably to give his guests a taste of danger. 

Jhonnen pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “thanks,” to the ithorian before dropping his hand and turning to Corso. “You brought… Sparky, was it?” 

Corso nodded and tapped the gun on his hip, looking pleased that Jhonnen had bothered to remember that he named his weapons at all, much less get the name right. 

“Good. We’re probably going to get in a fight. Or several. Nikto sector isn’t known for playing gentle.” He pointed to the taxi. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Traveling through the Nikto and Corellian sectors involved more blasterfire than Jhonnen generally enjoyed on his walks. The Kintan Kings had taken control and, in so doing, had taken to harassing passers by who didn’t look like they belonged. Jhonnen was bright red and so they would have had a problem anyway, but the real problem was Corso, who maintained a sort of wide-eyed enthusiasm that marked him dead away as someone _new_. 

Still, eventually they made it through the Alien Arms Market to the pleasure barge. 

“Your neighborhood this rough?” Corso asked as they passed through the throng of Drooga’s guards. 

“Different kinds of rough,” Jhonnen answered. “Usually there was less blasterfire.” 

They arrived on Drooga’s barge in the midst of some sort of production, at least Jhonnen _hoped_ it was a production. A small contingent— maybe six or seven— of Kaleesh warriors were facing down probably the scrawniest wookiee Jhonnen had ever seen. The Kaleesh in front spoke in a dramaticized voice, his chest puffed out, and accused the wookie of butchering entire hutt clans, something Jhonnen doubted because Drooga didn’t look even the littlest bit concerned. 

It was a stupid little play, and the weapons all looked real. 

Jhonnen looked at the wookie and sighed. “This is stupid.” 

“Keep back, you idiot!” The Kaleesh warrior addressed him as Jhonnen and Corso drew close enough. “That beast will tear your head off just like he did to Nor’dro the Fearless!” 

Corso took a step away. 

“His claws are stained with the entrails of many! His bloodlust can’t be satisfied.” 

The wookiee didn’t look particularly bloodthirsty to Jhonnen. 

<< Don’t Fear. You’re not my enemy, >> the wookiee warbled. 

“Warriors!” The Kaleesh held his fist up. “Kill these scum!” 

“Woah!” Jhonnen ducked and rolled out of the way. “ _These_ scum?” 

He was answered with blasterfire.

“Corso! Shit!” 

“Right with you!” Corso returned fire from behind a table. Jhonnen unholstered his weapon and joined in until all the Kaleesh were dead and he, and Corso stood alongside a now gore-soaked wookiee. 

Ew.

“Woah,” Corso grabbed his shoulder as Jhonnen moved towards the wookiee, “Don’t get too close. Thing’s liable to tear your arms off and beat you to death with them.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Jhonnen gave Corso a skeptical look. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” 

“Tell that to the reptiles—”

“Kaleesh.” 

“Kaleesh littering the floor.” 

“The ones who picked this fight? Half of whom are full of blaster holes?” Jhonnen shook his head. “It’s fine, kid. Just stay behind me if you’re worried.” He turned his attention to the wookiee. “Hiya.” 

<< That was a good fight. Bowdaar honors you, >> the wookiee warbled. 

“You alright?” Jhonnen asked, eyeing a sizeable hole in the wookiee’s fur. 

<< I fought bone-lizards before. >>Bowdaar shrugged. << Their smell is worse than their bite. >>

Jhonnen cracked a smile at that. 

From behind them, on the dias, came a booming voice speaking huttese. Jhonnen sighed and turned. << Wookiee! >> Drooga said, starting to gesture towards a pile of kennels. << Get back to your cage. I’ll call you again when I want you. >>

<< I’m going now, >>Bowdaar said to Jhonnen. << Goodbye. >>

“See ya.” Jhonnen gave a small, sad wave. He wasn’t _surprised_ to learn that the wookiee was enslaved, not after how dramaticized the fight had been, but he was _disappointed_. 

And worse, there was nothing he could do about it. 

Jhonnen focused his attention on the Hutt. Hutts were one of the few things Jhonnen would actually say he hated. Maybe it was born of being raised on Nar Shaddaa one rung above slavery, but he had no love of the giant, hedonistic slugs. 

Drollo charged for protection and for blackmail and forced Isixia to do more than simply dance if the price was right. The only reason Jhonnen hadn’t been forced into a similar line of work was that Isixia— with Jhonnen’s thefts supplementing the income— made enough to keep the hutt’s attention off him. 

And Drollo had been small time, just important enough to hide them from Jhonnen’s father. 

Jhonnen _really_ hated the hutts. 

<< What have you done, fool? >>Drooga demanded lazily from atop his lounge. << You ruined everything! The wookiee fights alone or there is no drama! >>

Jhonnen weighed his options. “Those Kaleesh picked the fight, not me.” 

<< This was not your fight! You weren’t even invited to my party! I payed the best Kaleesh warriors on Nar Shaddaa to face my adorable pet wookiee. This colossal battle was to whet the appetite, and I am unsatisfied! What do you have to say for yourself? >>

“Sorry for the mess?” 

Drooga snorted. << I excuse your rudeness, but only because I am a generous and well-loved Hutt. >>Drooga’s gaze flitted over to the bodies of the Kaleesh warriors and he plucked a slimy peeled fruit from the tray beside him. It made a loud squelching noise as Drooga’s thumb pierced into it. << A shame the fight ended so quickly. Those Kaleesh were better actors than warriors. I’m glad I don’t have to pay them. >>His attention returned to Jhonnen. << And you, spacer, I know why you’ve come. You waste your time. I don’t need your beast any more. >>

“You made a deal, Drooga.” 

<< No, I made an offer, and now I take back that offer. I only wanted your male shanjaru to complete a set. But thieves stole my female shanjaru. If I can’t have a complete set, I don’t want that male you brought. Go away! >>

Jhonnen’s shoulders dropped with irritation and he pursed his lips. This whole mess just got more complicated and it had _started out_ uncomfortably complicated. He thought about simpler days. Days _before_ the fucking mess on Ord Mantell. 

Then he straightened up, tossed his head back and gave Drooga a winning smile. “Let’s cut a deal, Drooga. What if I brought you _both_ beasts?” 

Drooga’s eyes widened.

Jhonnen’s smile sharpened. “Just tell me who took it.” 

<< My servant Ga’ram has the details. >>

Jhonnen gave a low bow and turned, catching eyes with a blue twi’lek male who bowed low and then gestured for Jhonnen to speak with him. 

* * *

The thief was the daughter of a wealthy Republic senator (human female, Jhonnen had to wonder if Skavak was involved _again_ ) who had noble ideals and absolutely no sense of how to go about enacting them. She was also dumb enough to leave a holorecording of her face with a hutt. 

Luckily it was Drooga, a lazy hutt who wasn’t too pissed off about the theft. 

But _Stars_ , on the list of stupid shit to pull, stealing from a Hutt and leaving evidence that it was you was near the tippy top. That shit got entire families butchered.

The Mercenaries were camped in the red light sector and as soon as Jhonnen’s taxi landed, a smile fixed on his face. “ _This_ ,” he told Corso, tugging the other man away from the twenty foot holodancer, “is my neighborhood.” He grinned. “Stick close.” 

“Or I’ll get robbed?” 

“Or someone’ll make off with your kidneys. Red Light Sector deals in flesh, bloody and sweet.” 

Corso blanched. 

“Let’s find those mercenaries,” Jhonnen cleared his throat. “And then get out of here.” 

“Do you wanna go pay your respects to your--”

“I will,” Jhonnen ran a hand through his short red hair. “But alone. And when we’re finished.” He forced a leering grin. “Maybe I’ll even show you a good time while we’re here.”

“When you say--”

“Take in some dancing, maybe get you a good time.” 

It was worth it for the way Corso recoiled. 

“I’m mostly kidding.” 

“Mostly.” 

“I would absolutely hire you a prostitute,” Jhonnen said seriously. “You could lose a game of sabacc to her.” 

Corso scowled and Jhonnen laughed, letting himself feel just a little bit better.

The eco-terrorist mercenaries were hiding out in Bleeder territory. Jhonnen undid the clip at the top of his holster so the weapon could be drawn quickly and advised Corso to do the same. 

“What do you know about these bleeders?” Corso asked as they made their way down the street. 

“Organ traders, mostly,” Jhonnen answered. “There’s an impressive organ trafficking market here. Sometimes it’s consensual, sometimes you wake up in a bathtub full of ice missing important bits of your anatomy.” 

“An’ you grew up here?” 

“Yep. They tend to leave kids alone.” Jhonnen kept one hand on his blaster. “There’s not a great market for child organs and Mom kept me close to the apartment or the club until Vivex taught me how to shoot.” 

“That the lady you were talking to?” 

“Yep. Vivex was mom’s best friend. Sweet—” Jhonnen shook his head. “Can we not do this now, Corso? I just wanna find those thieves and get out of here.” 

They blasted their way inside and found an angry human woman waiting at the back of the building. “You killed those men!” she shouted. “What kind of monster are you!” 

“Hey! They shot at me first,” Jhonnen defended, it being… mostly true. 

“Sure,” she scoffed. “Justify your slaughter. That’s what you’re type always does.” 

Jhonnen pursed his lips, trying to figure out if by “type” she meant “pureblood sith” or “hutt thugs” one of which was a form of prejudice and the other was just inaccurate. 

“The Shanjaru is gone,” she stood straight, fear in her eyes and determination in her voice. “And I’ll never tell you where Momi took it. I’m ready to die for my cause. Are you?” 

Jhonnen lowered his blaster and shook his head with a smile. When he looked back up at her it was with a beatific smile. “This is all a huge misunderstanding. I’m on your side.” 

The woman narrowed and then widened her eyes. She touched both of her cheeks, flushing red with embarrassment. “Oh no! Momi must have hired you to transport the shanjaru off Nar Shaddaa!” 

Jhonnen nodded. 

“I’m so, so sorry about those mercenaries! You just, you came to the wrong place. You’re supposed to go to Lazhae’s.” She gave him a tiny, understanding smile. “Here, this datapad explains everything. I can’t, uh, I can’t stay here.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Take care of yourself. Freedom for all life!” 

“Freedom for all life!” she repeated and then took off. 

Jhonnen leaned back and started flipping through the datapad. “Something you wanna say, Corso?” 

“One of these days you have to teach me how you do that.” 

“What, lie?” 

“Lie like that.” 

“We’ll see.” Jhonnen said. “I’m not sure it’s something I can teach.” He continued reading through the datapad and then handed it to Corso. 

“At least we got a name,” Corso said. “Maybe that blue-headed fella—”

“Ga’ram,” Jhonnen corrected. 

“—knows this Lazhae.” 

“Maybe,” Jhonnen looked around the bodies and figured Corso’d complain if he went through their pockets. “Come on then, let’s get back to that fuckin’ hutt.” 

They were on their way back to the taxi when Jhonnen’s holocom rang. He answered it and his eyes narrowed when he noticed how frightened Vivex looked. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“He’s here,” she said, “at the club. Asking for you.” 

Jhonnen took a steadying breath. “Okay. I want you to tell him I’m on my way. Pretend you tricked me or whatever if you need to, just, be careful.” 

“Be careful yourself,” Vivex hissed. “He’s packing serious hardware.” 

Jhonnen nodded that he understood and exhaled, combing a hand through his hair and closing his eyes to better center himself. “The club’s nearby. I don’t know if you wanna tag along or not but he’s probably after you too, knowing Skavak.” 

“I’m with you, Jhonnen.” 

“Thanks, Corso.”

The Club, Panwa Muni, was mostly empty when Jhonnen and Corso arrived. Jhonnen chose to be relieved, rather than worried. Vivex was in because she had taken on a management position and all the hardships and privileges it entailed. 

Zank was waiting on the stage, dressed in full, shiny armor under the stage lights. 

“That a man or a hover tank?” Corso asked out of the corner of his mouth. 

Jhonnen nodded; it was a fair question. 

“You like my armor?” Zank asked, hopping off the stage and making his way to the center of the room. “I polished it for this occasion.” 

“Sure is sparkly.” Jhonnen shrugged. “You might just be one of the glitteriest things in here, and this is a strip club.” 

“Rogun says I can bring you back in pieces. Hope you don’t mind.”

“By all means.” Jhonnen looked over Zank at the stage and started to formulate an idea. “I do expect you to earn your paycheck, of course.” 

“I’ve got some new weapons to test and you, you’ve got what? A skinny teenager for a sidekick?” 

“And my blaster.” Corso crowed. “I call her Sparky.” 

“There’s something unwholesome about a man who names his weapons.” Zank shook his head. 

That head shake gave Jhonnen his opening. He lunged forward, catching Zank around the middle and sending them both ass-over-tit down the aisle toward the stage. Zank landed on Jhonnen’s chest and socked him hard in the jaw. 

“Shoot. Him.” Jhonnen shouted, clawing for the grenade belt. He curled his legs up, folding almost in half and forced Zank over him onto the stage, rolling to the side and pulling his blaster while Corso provided covering fire. 

The armor was a problem so Jhonnen aimed for the head. The plastiglass deflected the first couple shots and Jhonnen had to scurry behind one of the tables as Zank returned fire. 

The fifth shot broke through, however, and the sixth ended Zank’s career. Jhonnen kicked his foot to make sure and slumped against the wall in relief. 

“It’s over,” he shouted, “Everyone alright?” 

Vivex sprinted from the changing room and touched his cheeks, her thumb smoothing over a bruise hard enough to make him wince and try to pull away. “Ow, fuck.”

“What do I always say about letting them hit you in the face,” Vivex chided. “Idiot.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You alright?” 

“He gave us a scare, that’s all.” Vivex pulled away and looked around the room. “You didn’t make half the mess I’d worried about. Think that armor’ll sell?” 

“Probably.” Jhonnen shrugged. “Viv, this is Corso, a friend.” 

Corso was looking the other way, beet red. “Uh, ma’am, you’re uh… ” 

“Naked,” Jhonnen helped. “It’s a boob, Corso. Grow up.” He gave Vivex a squeeze. “I gotta get back to work.” 

“Been to the shrine yet?” 

“N-no, but I, I will. I promise. You set it up here, right, in the back?” 

Vivex nodded. 

“When I’m done, I promise.” 

“Alright,” Vivex sighed. “You get back to what you need to do, I’ll clean up this mess.” 

“You’re a saint,” he kissed her temple. “I love you.” 

Corso kept quiet all the way back to the taxi, still beet red from seeing what Jhonnen was pretty sure was his first naked woman. Vivex was in her thirties and active. It wasn’t a bad boob for a first boob, Jhonnen figured. 

“Why didn’t you stop in on your ma’s shrine?” Corso asked. “And is it, do your people usually build shrines?” 

“It’s a shrine because she didn’t get a grave, Corso.” Jhonnen folded his arms defensively across his chest. “And I’ll visit her on my own later. We’ve got work to do. 

* * *

The coordinates Ga’ram had given lead Jhonnen and Corso to the lower industrial district. It was crawling with Imperials and Jhonnen strolled through them without problem, one of the very few perks to being a red sith. Corso had the sense to keep his head down and they made it to the pleasure barge without incident. 

Ga’ram gave another small bow when Jhonnen came up to talk to him. Jhonnen gave Bowdaar a smile as he passed, noting the eviscerated colicoid on the deck of the pleasure barge. He snorted a laugh as Drooga complained that Bowdaar was too powerful and then his ears caught on the details. 

Drained of half his blood. 

Jhonnen wasn’t sure how Bowdaar was upright, much less in fighting shape but he _was_ sure that Drooga was a fucked up slave-driver. “You are one fucked up slug,” he muttered under his breath. 

Drooga heard him anyway. << I demand drama for my guests! Where is the excitement in ten second duels? >>

<< The Hutt doesn’t understand fighting, >>Bowdaar said, his massive shoulders dropping with annoyed resignation. 

Ga’ram bowed low. “Do Not Despair, O Great Feastmaster. We will find you suitable entertainment.” He turned his attention back to Jhonnen and Corso. “Drooga must be more gentle. He forgets the Wookiee is collateral. When the gambler repays his debt, he will expect his wookiee returned intact.” 

Jhonnen’s eyes narrowed. He hated Hutts. 

“The senator’s daughter has made a critical error in trusting Lazhae,” Ga’ram continued as though he didn’t notice Jhonnen’s distraction, or more likely didn’t care. “He is no friend to her. Before the Empire imprisoned Lazhae in Shadow Town, we purchased some of his beast experiments for Drooga’s pleasure. Ghastly abominations. 

“What’s Shadow Town?” Corso asked. 

“Big fuck off imperial prison district,” Jhonnen replied, looking back at Ga’ram. 

“If Lazhae has Drooga’s beast, it may already be too late. Shadow Town is extraordinarily dangerous, but you must hurry.” He handed over the coordinates to the barge’s next stop. 

“Thanks.” 

As he passed Bowdaar he smiled and the wookiee inclined his head in response. 

* * *

Shadow Town was a little harder to sneak through, but Jhonnen and Corso managed with minimal bloodshed right up until they reached Lazhae’s genetics lab. 

At which point they were set on by monsters. Jhonnen couldn’t remember what the small, hunched things with the giant horns were called but they reminded him of angry, toy-sized gundarks. 

They blasted through a half-dozen of the little bastards before they found the lab Lazhae was in and skidded to a stop when Jhonnen noticed the girl in the cage beside Lazhae (assuming of course that Lazhae was the guy in the lab coat). 

“What the fuck?” Jhonnen asked as calmly as he could while being mostly out of breath. 

“My beautiful children! You killed them all! Why?” Lazhae asked, sounding earnestly mournful. 

“You have something that belongs to Drooga the Hutt,” Jhonnen said, the words trailed off as he looked as the girl in the cage, holding his blaster level with Lazhae’s throat. The senator’s daughter, Momi Andrell. 

She stared up at him, tears streaming down her pretty face with her hands clutching her belly. “Please . . . kill me.” She sniffled. “Lazhae used me for experiments. Did terrible things. I’m dying.” 

“Shit,” Jhonnen said with his usual eloquence. “He won’t get away with this.” 

“I don’t care about revenge,” she shook her head. “Don’t let him keep that beautiful beast! He’s sick.” 

“Silence, test subject,” Lazhae ordered He turned his attention to Jhonnen, eyes dipping down to the barrel of the blaster, clearly not a brave man. “The shanjaru is invaluable to my research. I need it.” 

Jhonnen raised his brow skeptically, reminded again that he didn’t actually have eyebrows and the message might not get across. 

“The species displays evidence of evolving sapience,” Lazhae explained urgently, “I must unlock its secrets to engineer my perfect lifeform!” 

“Slaves,” Momi clarified. “He wants to make slaves.” 

“ _Smart Beasts_ ,” Lazhae said. “That comprehend complex commands and perform multi-stage—”

“Slaves,” Jhonnen interrupted. 

“What the buyers do with them is their business.” 

“So why experiment on her?” Jhonnen gestured to Momi with his head. 

“I certainly wasn’t about to use my children,” Lazhae scoffed. His eyes darted back down to the blaster barrel. “I—I have no desire for hostilities with Drooga or OR his agents. I extracted genetic samples from the shanjaru. They’ll have to suffice.” He cleared his throat. “The cage the shanjaru is in is a programmable repulsorlife vehicle. I’ll send it to Drooga immediately.” 

“Corso, give him the coordinates.”

“Drooga only wants the shanjaru so he can eat the last of a species!” Momi protested. 

The cage took off. “And the Hutt will have his meal shortly. There’s no reason for more violence.” Lazhae said. 

“I don’t know, you did torture a mostly innocent woman,” Jhonnen listened to the sweet hum of his blaster warming up. 

“How can you take her side? Her kind would leave us rotting in ignorance.” 

Momi pulled herself most of the way upright. “The shanjaru’s genetic samples are the only way to save the species. Get them for Lazhae.” 

“Wait!” Lazhae clutched a case to his chest. “I’ll pay whatever it takes to keep these samples. Leave me in peace so I can finish research.” 

“Hand them over and I let you live,” Jhonnen held out his right hand for the case.

Lazhae looked at the case and then at the blaster and then back up to Jhonnen’s face. “T-take them, damn you! I was so close to a breakthrough!” 

He handed the case to Corso and took off at a run. Jhonnen holstered his weapon and unlocked the cage so Corso could kneel and help Momi all the way to her feet. “Thank you,” she reached up and wiped her tears clean, smearing thick black makeup down her cheek. “Take the genetic samples to the Senate Tower on Coruscant. A researcher named Daru’da can clone the shanjaru—repopulate the species.” 

“Consider it done,” Jhonnen said.

“It will be my dying legacy,” she held her head up, trying to put on a brave face. Lazhae injected me with awful diseases. Incurable ones.” She clung to Corso as she swayed and Corso caught her and helped hold her upright. “The pain is horrible. I don’t want to live like this. Please, kill me.” 

Jhonnen shook his head. “Look, your dad’s rich, right? He can afford treatments to help you.” 

“Maybe… maybe you’re right. I’ll… I’ll try. Thank you…” 

Jhonnen looked at Corso. “If you can get her and these samples to the spaceport I can get to Drooga and get this shit over with.” 

“Will do, Jhonnen.” 

“Carry her if you have to,” Jhonnen sighed. “Put that body to work.” 

* * *

Jhonnen showed back up on the pleasure barge and stole a quick snack off one of the traveling hors d'oeuvres droids before he made the walk to Drooga’s dias. He nodded to Ga’ram. “Did that female shanjaru fly here?” 

Ga’ram gave a small bow. “The repulsorlift cage made a dramatic entrance during the twenty-seventh course.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

“The Great Feastmaster was excessively delighted by his female specimen’s return. As we assured you, his interest in your shanjaru is renewed. Drooga has already contacted your associate to arrange the details.” 

As if on cue, a small hovering holo lit up and Risha appeared in translucence. She gave Drooga a warm, almost flirtatious smile. “Our shanjaru will be there shortly, Drooga dear.” 

<< At last, >> Drooga laughed. << I have a matching set of shanjaru! The only surviving male and female of an entire species are all mine. >>

Jhonnen kept his thoughts to himself, knowing that there was no chance in Corellian hell that Drooga cared enough to repopulate the species. The shanjaru’s only hope rested in a tiny case with Corso. 

Force help them. 

<< I’ve sent your starship engine to the spaceport, beautiful Risha. Come—celebrate our deal. >>

“Love to,” Risha lied, “but I need to install that prototype engine. Maybe next time?” 

“You can install freighter engines?” Jhonnen asked.

“Did I not mention I’m a starship mechanic?” Risha’s smile was cruel but her eyes were a little gentler than usual. “Pretty good one too.” 

Jhonnen heart did a _thing_ and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

<< Next time you come to Nar Shadda, beautiful Risha, I’ll expect you to dance with me. >>

“It’s a date, Drooga.” The holo turned to Jhonnen. “Come see me when you’re ready to lift off, Captain.”

“Got something to take care of but then, yeah, of course.” 

The holo turned off and Jhonnen turned to leave, almost walking into Bowdaar as he did. He spun nimbly out of the way as Bowdaar pointed one furious claw up at Drooga. << You poisoned me, Hutt! >>

“The wookiee’s final performance begins,” announced Ga’ram. 

Jhonnen’s pale eyes narrowed. “This is gonna piss me off, isn’t it?” 

“You have affection for the beast,” Ga’ram looked moderately surprised. “Unfortunate. The gambler who owns the wookiee refuses to pay back his debt to Drooga, so the wookiee is now property of the Great Feastmaster.”

<< Gentlebeings! >>Drooga boomed. << Watch as the wookiee becomes a meal for my pet gundark! I have been starving it for just this occasion. Will the gundark swallow the wookiee whole, or chew? If he chews— >>

Jhonnen stopped listening. He turned to watch a repulsorlift fly to the designated arena and land. The whole lift shook as the monster inside struggled to get free. 

“This isn’t entertainment,” Jhonnen shook his head, “it’s an execution.” He spun on the ball of his foot as Bowdaar entered the arena. “How much for the Wookiee?” 

<< Credits no longer interest me, only drama! Prepare for death, mighty Bowdaar. >>

“Hell with this!” Jhonnen pulled his blaster and dove into the arena at Bowdaar’s side. The door to the gundark’s cage blew open and Jhonnen fired, trying to remember how many shots it took to down a gundark. 

More than one. He dove out of the way. 

More than two. The beast threw out a arm and caught him in the stomach, throwing him to the side like a ragdoll. 

More than three. Bowdaar ducked below a swing and came up with a knee to the gundark’s jaw. 

Four. The gundark hit the floor and Jhonnen discharged another six shots into its head just to be safe. He grabbed his knees and gasped for air before looking over to make sure Bowdaar was still in one piece. 

<< My gundark! What have you done, stupid spacer? >>

“Weren’t… ” Jhonnen took another deep breath. “Weren’t you entertained?” 

<< Well yes. . . but do not change the subject! You and this wookiee are boring and expensive to maintain! Get out of my sight—both of you! >>

Jhonnen nodded and grinned at Bowdaar. “Hey, look at that.” 

<< Bowdaar is free of the hutt. >>Bowdaar said, sounding less tired and more triumphant than he had previously. << You earn Bowdaar’s friendship—and service. >>

Jhonnen blanched. “Look man, you wanna tag along that’s your choice, but my life is weird and full of banthashit.” 

<< There is no choice. You set Bowdaar free. >>

“Well, neat,” Jhonnen shrugged. “The ship’s in dock 169, make yourself at home. I’ll catch up I’ve just got a thing to take care of first.”

<< Bowdaar will wait for you there. >>

* * *

Jhonnen headed back to Panwa Muni by himself and paid cover to get in. He leaned against the back wall for a moment until he caught eyes with Vivex and she took him through the VIP Rooms and passed them to the changing rooms. 

Ixisia’s shrine was one of a half dozen, all set up in the cubbies of girls who wouldn’t be using them any more. People had left notes or personal effects. Jhonnen eyed them all until he found Ixisia’s marked by a little holo of her. Jhonnen closed his eyes to stem the tide of tears. He took the only piece of jewelry he wore—a small gold earring—and set it beside the holo. Then he straightened and turned to look at Vivex. “You alright?” 

“I wasn’t working that night,” she answered. “But it's been rough. We lost seven girls in that shoot out, your mom was the only one with real family.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“We could use money,” she answered honestly. “And you should also buy a dance from Zii tonight, she’s been down and could use a client who she doesn’t have to smile for.” 

“I can do that.” He thought about Nok Drayen’s treasure. “And maybe I can actually help out soon.” 

“That’d be good, Jhonny. That’d be real good.” Vivex shook her head. “We’re still not owned by the Hutts directly and I’d like to keep it that way.” 

* * *

Jhonnen’s chest soared when he saw _The Tick_ in her hangar. There was nothing like her, no matter how often other people complained that she was ugly or that she looked like an alderaanian house louse. She glittered in the light. 

And she was _home_. 

Risha was outside finished up with the installation, her arms coated with engine grease up to the elbows. The effect was striking, and it was _something_ to know that she could work on a starship, though he had no way of knowing if she enjoyed it or not. 

Still, it might be something to talk about. 

“Just in time,” she said, wiping her hands on a rag. “I installed that new engine for you. Want to take it for a spin?” 

Jhonnen looked up at _The Tick_ and then looked back at where Risha was splashing mineral spirits up her arms to clean the oil off. 

“Where’d you learn to work on starships?” Jhonnen asked. 

Risha actually smiled, her expression still hard but a little warmer than usual. “At my father’s knee. He was the best.” She looked up at the engine she’d just finished installing and then returned to washing up. “This prototype is really something. You’ll find your ship is a lot more maneuverable.” She finished well enough, though would probably hog the fresher once they were aboard. “I noticed we have a new addition to the crew. Wookiees are always good for extra muscle. This one friendly?” 

“Seems to be.” Jhonnen picked up the mineral spirits and gestured for Risha to head up into _The Tick_ first. “It’s a sorta long story, I’ll tell you about it later if you want.” 

Risha held the door for him, apparently in a good mood. “It’s funny that a hutt is helping us find Nok Drayen’s treasures. Nok used to terrify the cartel.” 

“You seem to know a lot about him,” Jhonnen said and then was distracted by the holoterminal beeping. 

“Someone’s calling,” Risha said, her smile turning back to mocking and just a little bit teasing. “Probably a fan, be a darling and tell them I’m out.” 

Jhonnen laughed. “The shampoo in the red bottle gets out grease.” 

He pushed the button to answer the holoterminal, expecting Skavak. 

It was not Skavak. 


	5. No Good Deed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen tries to rescue a damsel in distress and then has to talk to Corso about agency, again.

“This is Captain Feylara Raed of the free trader Celestial Crow. If anyone’s out there, I need help!” said a pretty human female (suspicious) with a simpering voice that set Jhonnen’s nerves on edge. 

“I read you, Captain. What’s the situation?” 

“Ship’s engines burned out. Power cells fading, losing life support. Can’t hold out much longer—I’m drifting into a sun!” 

It _felt_ like a _lie_. 

“Need help getting my engines going. I’ll pay if you help with repairs.” 

But if it _wasn’t_ a lie, she was extra definitely about to die. 

Jhonnen sighed. He couldn’t have that on his conscience. “Send me your coordinates and I’ll—” 

“What? You’re breaking up. Life support just failed. Transmitting my coordinates now. Please hurry.” 

The holoterminal went dark. Jhonnen sighed. “I’m gonna get shot at. Again.” He turned to look at Corso. “I want you on _The Tick_ in case someone pulls something fishy. I’ll take Bowdaar with me to ‘fix her engines’—” He paused and chuckled. “Heh, _fix her engine_.” Jhonnen cleared his throat. “Or whatever it is she needs done.” 

* * *

Bowdaar had no belongings other than his sword and harness, but he’d set up in the galley with them. He looked up when Jhonnen popped in to see how he was settling. 

<< Thank you. >>Bowdaar warbled. << Much longer and I would have ripped the arms off that Hutt. >>

“Maybe I should have let you, he would have deserved it.” 

Wookiee laughter was a loud, rolling sound that echoed and carried. Jhonnen winced at the volume but grinned to show he appreciated it. 

<< Bowdaar likes you, small man. I will fight well for you. But for honor! Not to entertain a Hutt! >>

Jhonnen chuckled. “Well, enjoy your freedom. You can bunk down pretty much wherever.” 

<< Last ship, I was in the slave quarters. >>

“Yeah, design flaw but _The Tick_ doesn’t have those. It’s all cargo space and crew quarters and the lounge and the galley and more cargo space.” He winked. “Just got no room for slaves.” 

<< Thank you, Captain. >>

“Jhonnen, I hate formality.” Jhonnnen said, falling into one of the seats. “Though I hope you're ready for more than fighting. There’s an awful lot of lifting and shifting and moving that goes on in my business. Also a fair amount of lying.”

<< There is no honor in lying. >>

Jhonnen nodded his agreement; there really _wasn’t_ a whole lot of honor in lying. What there was was _survivability_ and that was just as, if not _more_ , important. “I’ll handle the lying then, big guy. You handle the blood and occasionally help me move some crates and everything’ll be fine.” 

<< Agreed. >>

Jhonnen grinned up at the wookiee and then snuggled down in his chair. He closed his eyes and listened to _The Tick’s_ new engine, the difference in the hum. 

It would take some getting used to, he probably wouldn’t sleep all that well that night because of it, but his baby deserved the best. Stars knew she currently got to enjoy the pitter-patter of Corso’s tiny feet. And Risha’s meddling. And now Bowdaar’s… Bowdaar. 

* * *

“Well, she certainly _looks_ like she’s shit outta luck,” Jhonnen said as they neared _The Celestial Crow_. “Corso, do _not_ leave my ass here.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

He headed for the airlock and and paused when Risha cleared her throat. “Hate to be nosy—”

“That’s probably a lie.” 

“—but is there some reason we’re docking with a decrepit starship in the middle of nowhere?”

Jhonnen shrugged. “Either I’m going to save someone’s life _or_ I’m about to get shot. It’s really a fifty-fifty call at this point, bet you on it?” 

“I won’t tell you how to run your ship—”

Probably another lie.

“—but what am I supposed to do if you don’t come back?” Risha put her hands on her hips and scowled at him before looking away. “Boarding another vessel in deep space is tricky. A million things can go wrong.” 

“I’ll miss you too, Rish,” he winked. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave you holding the bag. If I die, Corso’ll take over for me and I know you can work that kid into whatever shape you need.” 

“You are planning to take at least _some_ muscle with you, right? You do have a wookiee.” 

“Yes dear, I was planning on taking Bowdaar.” Jhonnen grinned. “Didn’t realize you cared so much about my wellbeing.” 

“I care about not getting stranded in deep space,” Risha said. “Good luck over there, I hope you don’t need it.” 

He and Bowdaar boarded _The Celestial Crow_ fully armed. They found Feylara in the cargo hold in a shield bubble that didn’t make Jhonnen feel any better about the situation. 

“Hi there.” She gave a tiny wave. “Was starting to think you wouldn’t show.” 

“Hi.” 

“I might have exaggerated a teensy bit about the damage,” Feylara said. 

_Damn it_ , Jhonnen thought, unable to muster surprise. 

“It was sweet of you, flying all the way out here to save me. You seem like a nice guy.” 

_Damn it_ , Jhonnen thought again, reflecting on how Risha was going to make fun of him for this if he survived. 

“Just so you know, this isn’t personal. I have to kill you, but!” she said brightly, “it’s for love.” 

_Damn it—wait, what?_ Jhonnen blinked at her. “What?” 

“Romantic, right?” She giggled. “See this wavy light around my body? It’s a ray shield. Blaster fire can’t get in or out. Neat, huh?” 

“Extremely.” Jhonnen pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I’m going to go now.” 

“Sorry. I magnetically sealed all the hatches behind you.” 

“That’s just fucking—”

“Ssh, quiet. I have to make a call.” 

Jhonnen’s shoulders slumped. This was stupid. This had _been_ stupid. Of course her freighter wasn’t drifting into a sun. He had _known_ this was a trap and he had walked into it anyway and— “Hey babe,” he winked at Skavak. “Who’s the dame?” 

“What is this? You making an army out of my ex-girlfriends?” 

“I think she thinks she’s winning you back,” Jhonnen shrugged. “Over my dead body, of course.” 

He thought he was funny. 

“This is your nemesis, right?” Feylara asked. “The captain who stole your ship—”

“It was my ship.”

“—on Coruscant and made you look stupid?” 

“He really didn’t need help with that but yeah, that was me.” Jhonnen smiled. “Sounds like you two have _plenty_ to talk about though, so I’ll just be on my way.” 

“Got a better idea,” Skavak said. “ _I’ll_ leave. Can’t think of a better punishment for you.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Feylara complained. “You know you love me, you’re just afraid of commitment.” 

<< Pretty lady has crazy eyes, >> Bowdaar warbled in a low voice. 

Jhonnen snorted. “I think he just has that effect on people. He drives me pretty fucking crazy, after all.” 

“I can _prove_ how much I love you, honeybunch. I’m killing this nemesis for you.” She looked up. “Get ‘im boys!” 

Jhonnen drew his blaster and spun, nailing a droid in the central processing. 

Bowdaar was a terrifying force of nature, tearing through metal like it was flesh and before long the cargo hold was littered with droid parts and Jhonnen had sustained a small burn to one leg that was mostly frustrating because he _really liked these pants_. 

He turned his attentions back to where Feylara and Skavak were talking? Bickering? Something, over the holo. 

“That was fun.” 

“Wow,” Feylara said. “You’re really good.” 

“I love hearing that.” Jhonnen said. 

“I thought for sure I had enough droids to kill you. I’m so embarrassed.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s just call this even. With my ray shield on, you can’t hurt me.” 

“Feylara,” Skavak said from her palm. “How are you powering that ray shield?” 

“Portable battery pack.” 

Jhonnen shook his head. 

“You know those only last a few minutes, right?” 

“Oh no…” Feylara gave Jhonnen a pleading look as the shield flickered out of existence. 

“Welp,” Jhonnen crossed his arms over his chest, still holding the blaster. 

“Honeybunch! My shield is down! What am I gonna do?” 

“I don’t know,” Skavak scoffed, “Die? Kill you later, Jhonnen.” 

“Later pumpkin,” Jhonnen said as the holo cut out, he looked back at Feylara and gave a dramatic sigh. “Ah, _men_.” 

“Honeybunch wait! He—he hung up.” Feylara’s lower lip started to wobble. “I—I thought he _loved_ me.” 

“You were wrong,” Jhonnen shrugged. “It happens to the best of us.” He paused, remembered she had tried to kill him and added, “It also happens to the craziest of us.” 

“M-m-my friends all said he was—was after my muh-muh-money,” Feylara wept. “But they didn’t know how he made me fuh-fuh-feel.” 

“There there crazy-pants. It’ll be okay.” 

She sniffled. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you. Do you forgive me?” 

“No but I’m not going to shoot someone who’s helpless _and_ sobbing.” Jhonnen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just let me out of here and go find yourself a new lover.” 

Feylara wiped her eyes and nodded. “I unsealed the hatches so you can go. I’m sorry for everything.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Back aboard _The Tick_ , Risha was waiting in the cargo hold. “Lemme guess,” she said without looking up as soon as she heard his boots. “It was a trap.” 

“To the surprise of no one.” Jhonnen shrugged. “One of Skavak’s old girlfriends tried to murder me in the face. Then she cried a lot. It was a mess.” 

“I’m not even going to ask.” Risha turned, shaking her head. “If there’s one thing I hate it’s phony distress calls. They make spacers too paranoid to answer the real ones.” 

“Better to check than to not,” Jhonnen shrugged. “She might have been in real trouble. I mean, we knew she wasn’t, but she might have been.” 

“Very noble.” Risha remarked coldly. “I wonder how much trouble that policy will buy us?” 

“Loads.” Jhonnen shrugged. “Just you wait.” 

“Let’s get out of here. Deep space gives me the creeps.” Risha turned back to her console. “I’m setting up new deals, I’ll let you know when I’ve got them squared away.” 

“Cool.” 

* * *

“Jhonnen, you got a minute?” Corso asked, knocking on the wall of the cockpit. 

Jhonnen looked up and had to swivel the chair around to actually look at him. He lifted his brow expectantly. “Yeah.” 

“I found someone who knows my cousin Rona. He’s a street doctor on Coruscant.” Corso shifted his feet like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Kind of a shady character, but that’s who Rona always drifted to. I think he really can get us to her. But…” 

Jhonnen looked back out the front window, galaxy mad spinning in his bottom peripheral vision. “So it’s a scam?”

“Rona loved to walk that line,” Corso explained. “Every time uncle caught her stealing, it would turn out she was sneaking cash to some mom with two kids on the street.” 

“My kinda woman.” 

“She’s the reason I know breaking the law’s got nothing to do with being a good man.” 

“Aw, I like you too Corso, but I think we should just be friends.” 

Corso snorted. “Let’s just go to Coruscant and hear her friend out. Ask cash for the job if you want, I just wanna find Rona.” 

Corso left and Jhonnen chuckled to himself. It wasn’t _his_ fault Corso was an easy mark. Either he’d toughen up or he’d leave. He kicked his feet up on the dash and enjoyed the quiet. He plugging in the coordinates for Coruscant, figured that they had those genetic samples to deliver _anyway_ and they might as well make a day of it. 

He could hear people moving around the ship. Risha in the cargo hold and Bowdaar in the galley, Corso cleaning his blasters in the lounge. The sounds of _life_ in what had been an empty ship. 

Jhonnen wasn’t sure what to make of it. He never really got _lonely_ , though he’d had regular calls with Isixia or Vivex and he touched down on Nar Shaddaa pretty often. Maybe things would have been different if Kira had been around. If they hadn’t parted in the worst way possible, she’d have taken off with him. 

Red and Impy, Spacers.

Maybe then he’d have been used to the sound of life in his ship. 

But she’d killed a bunch of gangsters and he’d bailed on her for it and then when he went to find her again—she was gone. 

He’d met Qeno at Club Vertica a week or so later and gotten the last of the credits he needed for _The Tick_ and then he was gone. 

There was no point in worrying about it.

* * *

The delivery to Daru’da took a total of half an hour from touching down on Coruscant. It felt like a little thing to do to save a whole species. There was no sense of urgency. He disembarked _The Tick_ , scanned his phony ident card and made his way to the Senate Tower with Corso on his heels, chomping quietly at the bit to go meet “Doctor Hope”. 

Doctor Hope, a devronian male, was waiting for them at The Dealer’s Den cantina. He beamed when he saw them, clearly recognizing them by description, which did not make Jhonnen feel much better. “Ah, Captain,” he started. “And Corso Riggs. It’s good to meet such generous souls in a place like this. I’m Doctor Hope. I like to think of myself as a messenger of mercy caring for--”

“We don’t need the pitch,” Corso interrupted. “Just tell us what you know about Rona.” 

Jhonnen was actually a little bit proud of him. 

“I’d be happy to. But, as a doctor, I must put the needs of my patients first.” 

A scam. Jhonnen had known it was a scam. Corso knew it was a scam. No one was surprised about it being a scam. “I’ll listen.” 

“Right. So, I’ve got some, ah, _life-saving medications_ that need delivering,” said Doctor Hope.

_Drugs,_ interpreted Jhonnen’s helpful criminal translator. 

“Unfortunately, Coruscant Security only cares about the rich. The don’t let anyone distribute, ah, _medications_ , in the underlevels at all.” 

Jhonnen nodded. Smuggling was what he did, this was just on a smaller, more immediate scale than usual. 

“The only way to get my meds down without getting stopped is to carry them inside a living body.” 

_Weird but okay_. 

“What?” Corso asked loudly, earning a sharp _ssh_ from both Jhonnen and Doctor Hope. 

“They’ll be safely stored in surgical plastic and implanted under the skin. My, ah, _nurse_ , can remove them on the other end.” 

“Alright,” Jhonnen nodded. “Sounds reasonable.” 

“This was always Rona’s kind of thing,” Corso said with a proud nod. “Breaking the law to do good under the nose of a corrupt authority. It’s worth it if I get to see her.” 

Jhonnen stared at him in stunned silence, wondering if he was serious. If he was seriously _this_ naive or if Jhonnen had just grown up around too much crime. 

His thoughts strayed to Rona, wondering if _she_ knew what she was in because her cousin apparently somehow didn’t. 

Then there was the question of if he should _tell Corso_ or not. 

He knew, right? 

He was just . . . he had to just be playing dumb. Doctor Hope was about a subtle as a rancor in a whorehouse. 

* * *

Corso did not know. 

This became evident when the “nurse” said it was time to cut out the spice and Corso froze, unable to speak until all the vials were removed and then asked Jhonnen to clarify what was said in a clipped, angry tone. 

Jhonnen stared at him and then sighed. “What did you _think_ we were smuggling?” 

“I—I knew we didn’t have the whole story but I’d hoped there was a kernel of truth to what he was saying. That he really was helping the people here.” He whirled on the nurse, a rattataki woman with a poor grasp of basic. “You used us! If you weren’t a lady you’d—I gotta go have a word with your boss.”

“Her being a woman is irrelevant,” Jhonnen said, perhaps a little sharply. “But this is her _job_. What we did? That’s _my job_.” He huffed a sigh. “You wanna find your cousin, right? This is how we do it. Leave her alone.” 

“How can you—we smuggled _spice_.” 

“I ran stolen guns to Ord Mantell, you really think a little spice is gonna phase me? C’mon, let’s get back to meet your cousin.” He turned and started walking, trusting that Corso would either keep up or not. 

It took a moment but Corso jogged and caught up. He fumed in outraged silence all the way back to The Dealer’s Den cantina and Jhonnen actually felt kind of bad for not double-checking that Corso _knew_ it was drugs. 

Then again, if Corso couldn’t handle this, it might be a kindness to drop him off on a planet of his choice because he wouldn’t be allowed to dictate what sorts of jobs Jhonnen took. 

They reached the Dealer’s Den and Corso stormed over to the “Doctor” and stuck a finger (Jhonnen was proud of the restraint) in his face as Hope opened his mouth to ask how the delivery had gone. 

“We did your dirty work, you fraud!” Corso snapped. “Now where’s my cousin?” 

“Easy big shot,” Jhonnen put a hand on Corso’s shoulder and pulled him back a little. “Socking him would attract attention none of us want.” 

“Well,” “Doctor” Hope said, brushing off his chest like he could remove the memory of Corso’s fingerprint. “I’m glad _one_ of you is reasonable. You’re looking for Rona Riggs, right? She’s the one who thought you two would be right for the job.” He brought his hands up as though to deflect Corso’s fury with them. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’ll go get her.” 

Jhonnen flopped onto the nearest barstool to wait and watched Corso pace. “She can’t know, Jhonnen.” 

“I’m pretty sure she _does_ , in fact,” Jhonnen pointed out. He looked up as a human woman made her way over. She was tall, like Corso, but otherwise there wasn’t much family resemblance. She was pretty, Jhonnen would give her that much, big green eyes and dark skin and hair. She laughed.

“Just like old times, eh cuz?” She grinned at Corso, cheeky and unrepentant. “Course, I’m a little more big-time now than Ma and Pa ever would have allowed.” 

“Huh, this is your smuggling ring? I’m almost impressed,” Jhonnen slid off his stool. “Your face, that Hope guy? He’s about as subtle as a raging Bantha though.” 

“Rona,” Corso pulled the conversation back. “What...what happened to you? What are you doing here?” 

Rona straightened her spine and put her hands on her hips, beaming with pride. “I’m the underboss for the Black Suns on this part of Coruscant!” Her grin widened, looking up at her cousin like she expected a smile in return. “Not bad considering five years ago I was shoveling Ronto dung.” 

“The _Black Suns_ ,” Corso repeated, eyes wide and horrified. “You’re a… gang member?”

“Gang _leader_ ,” Rona corrected, frowning at his lack on enthusiasm. “Think I should write home? Make ma and pa proud?” 

Jhonnen froze and looked to Corso, waiting to see if Corso was going to tell her or not. If Corso _could_ tell her or not. He watched Corso’s face fall and then turn towards the floor and the reminder of _why_ they’d come sank in. 

“They’re…they’re all dead, Rona. Separatists got them.” 

Rona stared for a moment and then scoffed. “Ha. After all that grousing about the big, dangerous galaxy. Guess that showed them.” 

“How can you… how can you _say that_?” Corso asked, stunned to near silence, voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you care?” He shook his head and glared at her. “We obviously came just in time. Come on, Rona. We’re getting you out of here.” He went to take her arm and Rona jerked back like he was red hot. 

“Poor, chivalrous little Corso,” she teased. “Don’t you _get it_? I don’t need to be rescued. I _chose_ this life.” 

“And that has to be her choice,” Jhonnen chimed in. “She gets to make her own choices, same as anybody.” 

“If she stuck a blaster in her mouth is it her choice to pull the trigger?” Corso demanded. 

Jhonnen leveled a serious glare at him. “Yes.” 

Corso opened his mouth to argue some more but Rona snapped and stole his fire, “Listen to your buddy, Corso. I’m no damsel in distress and you’re _sure_ not my hero.” She turned and started to walk away. “Go home. You’re too good for this galaxy.” 

It didn’t sound like a compliment. 

Jhonnen looked at Corso, who was contemplating the tile beneath his feet and patted him twice on the back. “C’mon. I’ll buy you a drink before we head back to the ship.” 

Corso nodded mutely, red in the face and thoroughly shamed. He took the whiskey Jhonnen ordered and drained it all too quickly before following Jhonnen back to _The Tick_ in sullen silence.

“What’s with him?” Risha asked as Corso blew past her to his bunk. 

“Important lessons about agency and letting other people make their own decisions.” Jhonnen shrugged. “He’ll be better off in the long run.” There was a _thump_ from Corso’s bunk and Jhonnen cracked a smile. “He also slammed a double of Corellian whiskey, so he might be a little drunk.”

Jhonnen left Risha and found Bowdaar looking introspective in the galley. He thought about turning to leave, Corso’s family-nonsense having left a sour taste in his mouth. But he leaned against the wall and affixed a cocky smile to his lips because Bowdaar’s comfort and security were _important_ regardless of how tired Jhonnen was. “What’s on your mind?” 

<< I am trying to remember Kashyyyk, >> Bowdaar admitted. << I saw so many worlds as a slave, it is hard to remember home. >>

Jhonnen thought about Nar Shadda and the dirty neighborhood he would never be able to forget. He thought about Vivex and Zii. “Well,” he shrugged. “You tell me what a Wookiee might want to buy and I’ll try to arrange a run there.” 

Bowdaar shook his massive head and warbled, << There is nothing there for me. I was taken as a child. I had just begun to train. >>

“Do you want—or need—to talk about it?” Jhonnen pushed off the wall and made his way over to the galley counter. 

<< Slavers attacked. I killed four before they shackled me. >>

“I’m not surprised,” Jhonnen said, hands on the counter, “that you killed four of them, not that—you know what I mean.” 

<< Slavers seek our strength and bind us with our honor. I was a slave a hundred years. I stayed sane knowing some things I would die before I’d do. >>

“Whatever works,” Jhonnen nodded. “I can’t even imagine how I’d manage in that situation.” 

<< Someone else usually died before it came up. >>


	6. The Amazing Qeno Lews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen runs into his only real old flame on Tatooine while making a delivery for Risha.

Risha, through whatever channels and magic she maintained, had secured their next drop point on Tatooine. Jhonnen had been to—and didn’t like—Tatooine. It was nice that there was little enough in the way of law enforcement or customs laws but there was _also_ little enough in the way of water or shade. 

Still, Jhonnen landed on Tatooine and left the helm to go see what it was _exactly_ that Risha had planned. She smiled at him— her usual, cruel tug of lips— but it was a sight Jhonnen had warmed up to. 

“We’re here.” 

“Hope you enjoy heat, Jhonnen. Tatooine is the closest you’ll get to landing on a sun. Unless you’re _really_ unlucky.” 

“If it’s that hot we should probably peel off a few layers, heat stroke is _really_ unpleasant.” 

“I sunburn easily,” Risha teased, “but you go right ahead.” 

Jhonnen raised his brow and then tugged off his shirt, holding it in one hand while he leaned against one of the crates. “Ah, much better.” He flexed a little and then laughed at himself. 

Risha chuckled and rolled her eyes. “We’re here because of a crime lord named Diago Hixan—the closest thing Nok Drayen ever had to a rival.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Diago was always trying to one-up Nok. They fought for territory, bragging rights and the occasional woman. The battles were legendary.” 

“What started this pissing match anyway?” 

“Nok was the most successful gangster in the galaxy.” Risha shrugged. “Diago was never happy being number two.” 

“So it was an _actual_ pissing match.” Jhonnen said. “That’s honestly kind of refreshing. What’s he got that we need?” 

“Diago celebrated Nok’s death by raiding his storehouses. Stole an advanced Gree sensor computer.” 

“And for some reason we need _that_ to find Nok Drayen’s treasure,” Jhonnen folded his arms across his chest, still not sure what Risha was getting out of this. She had some connection to Drayen, he was certain. Her little history lessons gave that much away. But the how and the what and the why all eluded him. 

And that should have been concerning, but she was really, very pretty and she was promising to make him really, very rich, and she was, most of all, _interesting_. 

“So what’s Diago’s price, exactly?” 

“These days? Privacy. No one’s seen Diago in years. He only communicates through his lieutenants. _One_ of those lieutenants, a Nikto named Tookreek, promised to help. You need to meet him.” 

“Okay.” Jhonnen nodded. “What’s _Tookreek’s_ price.”

“Tookreek wants fame. I promised I’d tell everyone he helped find Nok Drayen’s riches.” Risha’s smile dimmed, her eyes darkening before they fixed back on Jhonnen’s. “If you run into Diago, watch your back. He makes Skavak look like a Jedi Padawan.” 

“And does my favorite starship thief know about this little deal?” 

“Some things I kept from Skavak, just in case.” Risha smiled. “This was one of them. Tookreek owns a club in the desert just outside Anchorhead. He’s expecting you.” 

“Sounds like fun,” Jhonnen said. He turned, throwing his shirt over one shoulder, and walked out of the cargo hold. 

“Is there a reason you’re shirtless?” Corso asked as Jhonnen passed him, the first thing Corso had had to say since they’d left Coruscant. 

Jhonnen grinned and flexed both his arms, “Just thought you all might enjoy the show.” He winked. “How ‘bout that, Corso, do anything to brighten your day?” 

“You’re insane.” 

“Maybe,” Jhonnen stopped flexing. “But at least I’m having a good time. Get your gear together, we’re going out.” He stuck his head into the galley, “Hey, Bowdaar, can you keep fuckers from stealing my suspension?” 

<< Bowdaar will do this, >>Bowdaar bellowed. << I am grateful to not have to go out into Tatooine myself. >>

“And I am jealous as fuck, my friend.” Jhonnen shook his head. “But the things we do for love. Of money. And adventure.” 

* * *

“Still sore about your cousin?” Jhonnen asked as he and Corso stepped out under the blazing Tatooine sun. 

“Just don’t understand why you didn’t back me, Jhonnen,” Corso sulked. “What she’s doing is wrong.” 

“It’s not that different from what I do, Corso.” Jhonnen shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t run with a gang—’less you and Bowdaar count—but I break the law and move dangerous materials around under the nose of the authorities.” 

“Blasters ‘n—”

“ _Stolen_ blasters,” Jhonnen corrected. “That I smuggled into a warzone without asking which side they were going to.” He exhaled. “Look, I don’t like the Black Suns any more than you do, operations like that are bullies and they take advantage of people but your cousin seems to want to be there.” 

“Doesn’t mean we had to let her.” 

“What were you going to do, Corso? Hogtie her and stick her next to Risha? She’d have bailed the first chance she got and she’d have been right to.” 

“But what if she wants out later?” 

“Then that’s her choice and we offer her a ride to where she wants to be next. But you don’t own her, you can’t make those choices for her.” 

“I don’t think I own her! I just—what if she gets hurt? I want to _protect_ her.” 

“Sometimes you can’t but the best way to do that is to be supportive, or at least make sure that she knows you’ve got her back while disapproving.” Jhonnen shrugged. “That’s what love is, Corso. You can’t run someone else's life for them, but you make sure they know you’ve got their back even when they’re being a total fucking moron.” Jhonnen clapped Corso on the arm, “now as much as I love getting all sweaty with you, let’s get this job over with so we can return to the air conditioned insides of my beloved _Tick_.” 

They took the speeder out to Jundland where Tookreek ran his cantina and practically melted delight when they followed the stairs into the cool basement where Tookreek was manning the bar. He gave them an appraising nod. “Ah, Risha’s business partner, here at last. Impressive.” Tookreek set the bottle he was holding aside and tilted his scaly head lazily. “I’m honored she felt the need to make a show of strength. She must think very highly of me.” 

“Are all gangsters this full of themselves?” Corso asked. 

Jhonnen shrugged. “That was a compliment.” 

“Mostly to himself.” 

Jhonnen rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Tookreek. 

Tookreek brought his hands up and out apologetically. “Sorry to say this, but you’ve come at a bad time to do business. Things here are . . . tense.” 

_Motherless Son Of A—_ “Why’s that?” Jhonnen asked and then his attention was promptly drawn to the weequay harassing a woman (zabrak, republic tattoos) down the bar. Jhonnen’s face lit up. “Qeno!” 

Qeno took her eyes off the weequay long enough to look at Jhonnen and then pulled her blaster, pointing the barrel at the weequay. “I suggest you back off.” 

“That’s the dumbest thing you coulda done, lady,” the weequay sneered. “Boys!” 

“Jhonnen?” Corso asked. “Aren’t we gonna help her?” 

“Qeno! Need a hand?” 

“I got it, Hotstuff,” Qeno said with her eyes narrowed and fixed on the weequay gangster. Three other gangsters came up, weapons drawn, and Jhonnen moved his blaster to his lap, just in case. 

Qeno fired, she kicked her stool out into the legs of the three other gangsters and rolled back behind the bar only to come up with blasters in both hands, firing until all three dropped dead. 

Jhonnen shook his head, grinning, and slid his blaster back to his holster. 

“Damn,” said Corso.

“Damn,” Jhonnen agreed.

Qeno holstered his weapons and hopped the bar directly into Jhonnen’s lap. She was older, in her early forties with vibrant green eyes and red hair. She kissed him hard on the mouth. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

“Wasn’t expecting to see _you_ here,” Jhonnen squeezed her. “This is the ass end of the fucking galaxy.” 

“Uh, Jhonnen,” Corso cleared his throat.

“Right, right,” Jhonnen gestured to Corso, “Qeno, this is Corso. Corso, this is Qeno—I think I mentioned her before, she helped me purchase _The Tick_.” 

Qeno offered her hand to Corso for a shake. “Nice to meet you, no hard feelings about the kiss, I trust?” 

“What? No—no it’s—why would I—?”

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend.” Jhonnen explained. “He’s straight. I think.” 

“What do you mean you _think_?” 

“Kidding, Corso.” Jhonnen rolled his eyes. He looked back up to Qeno, and breathed more easily than he had in a long time. Holocalls were nice and all, but there was nothing that quite compared to the real thing. “So, I’m here on work. You?” 

“Work.” Qeno’s eyes sparkled as she said it. “Maybe we should meet up later and _talk about work_.” 

“I would love that.” 

“It’s a date,” she kissed his forehead this time. “I’d better haul jets before anyone gets offended about the body count. Comm me later.” She slid off his lap and out the door, leaving two stunned twenty-somethings behind her. 

“I missed her,” Jhonnen said in a dazed, far away voice. “She’s lovely.” 

“You look a little star struck,” Corso teased. 

“Are you kidding? She’s my fucking hero. Helped me buy _The Tick_ , helped me get my first job. Vivex taught me to shoot but Qeno taught me to shoot _creatively_ ,” he sighed. “For like, a week I thought I was in love with her.” 

“She seems a little old for you.” 

“She’s technically too young to be my mother,” Jhonnen said, “but only by a couple of years.” He shrugged. “Hasn’t slowed her down at all.” He slid out of his stool. “C’mon, let's see where Tookreek went so we can work on getting out of this sandbox.” 

Tookreek was on the other side of the cantina, staring balefully at the bodies Qeno had left by his bar. He covered his eyes with one scaly hand and shook his head. “Look at this mess,” he gestured to the corpses when Jhonnen and Corso were beside him. “Our gang had enough problems before this little shootout.” 

“Troubles?” Jhonnen asked, that special sense in the pit of his stomach pinging that trouble for the gang meant trouble for him personally and professionally. 

“Our organization is under attack,” Tookreek explained. “By a gang of Geonosians. Last week, they took over our spice warehouse. Killed _everyone_ , including a fellow lieutenant who had the only way of contacting Diago.” 

“There’s only _one_ way to contact your boss?” Jhonnen tilted his head in surprise and some confusion. 

“Diago hates it when we bother him. He got so angry, he killed a krayt dragon. Gave us lieutenants one fang to share. Only the lieutenant with the krayt dragon fang can speak to Diago and _your friend_ killed the men I was sending to get it.” 

Jhonnen dropped his arms to his side and sighed. “Okay. One, I can go get the fang for you so I don’t have to spend any more time on this planet than strictly necessary. Two, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And three, your buddies threatened her first.” 

“My deceased associate kept the fang at the spice warehouse. Place is crawling with Geonosians. Won’t be easy.” 

“Nothing ever is for me.” 

“Discouraging those Geonosians from sticking around will give us leverage with the boss. Just a suggestion. I’ll head for Diago’s summer palace at these coordinates,” he sent them to Jhonnen’s datapad. “Meet me there with the krayt dragon fang.” 

The spice warehouse was just far enough away from Tooreek’s cantina that no one was going to stumble on it by accident. The entrance was so thick with Geonosians—huge insectine lifeforms—that Jhonnen’s initial plan of “just sneak in” had to be twisted into “lob some grenades and fire wildly into the buzzing.” 

Despite this, he and Corso made it inside with minimal injuries and fought their way upstairs to start rummaging around for the krayt dragon fang, taking comfort in the fact that at least krayt dragons—and subsequently their teeth—were fucking huge. Jhonnen eyed the containers of spice and worked out a silent pros and cons list of lifted just a crate or two to sell elsewhere. 

Probably wouldn’t have been worth the hassle _and_ he didn’t need Corso throwing another fit so soon. Best give the guy a chance to acclimate to the conversation they’d had on the way to Tookreek’s. 

But _damn_ he could make _so many credits_. 

“Got it,” Corso said, standing next to a chair he’d turned over. “Damn, things the size of my forearm.” 

“Yep,” Jhonnen said. “Hate to see the thing it came out of.” 

Just as they were heading to leave a woman (human female, probably trouble) blocked the doorway. She was tall and pale with short black hair and thin purple veins under her eyes. She wore red, and not a lot of it. Jhonnen nudged Corso in the side. 

“While I’m pleased Diago finally responded to my provocation. I was expecting a bit . . . more.” Her eyes slid to Jhonnen’s holster. Which was a bit closer to his nether regions than he was comfortable with after she’d said she was expecting “more.” Her accent was Imperial and there was a lightsaber at her hip, meaning she wasn’t one of Skavak’s old flames unless he had one hell of a death wish. 

Mom had always warned him about Sith. They were three times more dangerous than any jedi if only because the jedi were trained to take prisoners. 

“Is that absurd little trophy the reason Diago sent you?” 

“Never question a man and his long, hard objects.” Jhonnen said, keeping his arms at his sides, the fingers of his left hand brushing the leatheris of his holster. 

“You’re funny,” she said. “I suppose I can work with that. My name is Vaverone Zare. I’m interested in discussing a bargain with Diago Hixan.” She sighed and brushed a hand through her bangs. “I’ve been prodding Diago for weeks. Raid a business here, kill a lieutenant there—but it’s like he hasn’t noticed.” 

“That’s sad,” Jhonnen said with a sympathetic nod while he tried to work out a way past her and back to Tookreek. The last thing he needed was a crazy sith on his ass. 

“I _thought_ sending the Geonosians to raid this operation would surely draw him out, but all I’ve got is you.” 

“And I’m terribly sorry to disappoint but,” Jhonnen shrugged. “Maybe he’s just busy.” 

“ _Grand Moffs_ tremble before me.” Zare frowned. “How powerful must Diago be to not care what I do to him?”

Jhonnen shrugged. There weren’t any windows to go out. 

“I’m seeking a small crimson box—one of many curios in Diago’s personal collection. I’ll give him whatever he wants for the box, but I need to arrange a meeting. Can you do that?” 

“You looking to cut a deal?” Jhonnen asked, stalling for time while he thought. 

“If you serve me, you serve yourself.” Zare’s mouth curved to a smile. “For your assistance, you’ll receive a gift few beings ever enjoy—the pleasure of my company.” 

Jhonnen blinked at her, mostly while he processed that this was a thing that was happening. Sex as currency wasn’t new to him, but he had thought sith considered themselves above such things. If not, kudos to her, but this felt like more of an “I’m irresistible” thing than a “sex is a good that can be exchanged for services” thing. And he found that just the littlest bit off-putting if only because it meant she was assuming his interest. 

“Don’t deny that you desire me,” Zare purred.

See, like that. 

“I’m the closest you’ll ever get to perfection. I offer the chance of a lifetime. All I ask is that you arrange a meeting for me with Diago.” 

Jhonnen looked at Corso and opened his mouth to ask if _he_ wanted to fuck the self-important sith. He closed his mouth, thinking better of it on both fronts. 

“Unfortunately I have dance plans later with somebody else,” Jhonnen said, hand inching towards his blaster. “And she gets ornery if I cancel on her.” 

Zare’s whole face scrunched together in a frown. “As you wish. I hope you survive disappointing me.” 

Jhonnen pulled his blaster and fired. Zare blocked the bolts easily and threw forward one hand, knocking him backwards as easily as if she’d punched him in the stomach.

“Jhonnen!” Corso had his blaster out in a moment. 

Zare closed her empty fist and jerked it back towards her, ripping Jhonnen’s blaster out of his fingers and into her own. “That was fun,” she strode towards him, past Corso like the other man was just part of the architecture. Jhonnen could feel the heat from her lightsaber as she brought it up to his throat. “But unnecessary.” She handed him back his blaster. “Now run along and reconsider my offer. Until we meet again.” She stalked back out of the room and Jhonnen felt around his neck for burns, finding nothing. 

“You ever get the feeling we’re in over our heads?” asked Corso. 

Jhonnen snorted a laugh. “Only every day of my life.” 

“You alright?” 

“Fine,” Jhonnen rubbed the front of his neck once more for good measure. “Just a little singed.” 

* * *

Diago’s summer palace was most of a day past Tookreek’s Cantina by speeder. It was hot enough that when Corso just barely held onto Jhonnen’s hips, Jhonnen didn’t make disparaging remarks about how speeder safety wasn’t going to suddenly turn Corso gay. He just figured if the other man died, he died. It was too hot for any nonsense. 

But it was cooling off a little as one sun started to dip lower on the horizon. Soon, like most deserts, it would do the 180° flip from unbearably hot to miserably cold. 

_This_ , Jhonnen thought, _is not a planet built to support life_. 

They reached the summer palace and headed inside, relieved to be inside for two reasons, rather than just the one, uncomfortably aware that all their sweat would turn to ice when the other sun went down in an hour or so. 

Tookreek was waiting for them in a large, lavishly decorated room. Jhonnen tossed him the krayt dragon fang and hid a smile as Tookreek scrambled to catch it. 

“Ah! The krayt dragon fang, and in perfect condition.” 

Jhonnen grinned and flopped onto a cushion, patting it for Corso to settle down beside him. Corso sat against the wall and Jhonnen shrugged. 

“I’m deeply impressed with how you handled those Geonosians, Captain.” Tookreek said, tucking the krayt dragon fang into a pack. 

“They were sent there by a sith. She says she wants to meet Diago.” 

“A _sith_ is behind the attacks on our operation? How do you know?” 

Jhonnen lifted his brow, had he not just explained how he knew? He shifted to make himself more comfortable, half buried in the deep red cushion, almost invisible save for his clothing. “She promised me a… reward… if I got her some face time with Diago.” 

“Sith don’t honor their promises any more than jedi tell good lies,” Tookreek cautioned. 

Jhonnen was sharply aware that _he_ was sith, race not religion but still. It made him worry, if Tookreek thought _he_ wasn’t going to honor _his_ promise, what cause did Tookreek have to honor his? He could be marching himself and Corso into a trap. 

But there was no way out but through if he wanted Nok Drayen’s treasure and currently the treasure meant less to him than keeping Risha from stealing _The Tick_ now that it had her fancy prototype engine installed. 

Stars, what was her deal _anyway_? That was a more interesting journey than this literal fucking treasure hunt. 

He tuned back in when Tookreek snapped for his attention. “You there?” 

“Yeah, sorry, long day.” 

“You can rest here tonight. In the morning we’re heading to an underground water well the native call The Lightspring. The boss turned it into his private retreat.”

Jhonnen couldn’t help but feel that, on a planet like Tatooine, that was an incredibly shitty thing for Diago Hixan to do. 

He _should_ have liberated some of the spice and sold it at a profit. 

Never mind that he hadn’t really had a way to get it back to _The Tick_ and that Corso would have bitched about it. It was the principle of the thing. 

“Now that we have the fang,” Tookreek continued unabated, “he’ll let us in to—oh what now.” Tookreek produced his holo and a guard came to life in his palm. “What now?” 

“Tookreek! The palace is under attack! Imperial commandos!” 

_Shit_. 

“They’re tearing us apart—” the terrified guard continued, “—breaching the security doors—” he cut off suddenly and fell over dead in a flash of blasterfire. 

Tookreek fixed his gaze on Jhonnen. “Shit, Diago will be furious if this palace falls to the Empire. Only one thing to do.” He turned and opened one of the ventilation grates before crawling inside. 

Jhonnen pursed his lips. 

“You kill the Imperials and meet me at the Lightspring!” 

“Hold on a fucking second,” Jhonnen swore, “we can both fit in that escape route!” 

“But _you_ need to stop the Imperials from finding it while _I_ get away,” Tookreek pointed out, banking on the fact that Jhonnen needed him very much alive to contact Diago. “Good luck!” The ventilation grate closed back into place. “See you at the Lightspring!” 

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jhonnen muttered, kicking over a table to use as cover as the thunder of boots started down the end of the short hallway. “I’m going to fucking kill him. Cover your ears Corso.” Jhonnen lobbed a flashbang over the table and covered his own ears, eyes screwed tightly closed. He counted to ten and then popped up like a jack in the box and fired into the stunned commandos, killing two of them before he dropped back down and Corso popped up, killing two more. They rolled out from behind cover, killed the last of the squad and darted for the locked front door. 

Jhonnen’s holo beeped and he pressed against a wall with Corso watching his back to answer it. He blinked, confused, at Zare and tried to piece together when she’d gotten his holofrequency. 

“Hello again.” 

“Hi,” he said slowly, remembering horror stories from his youth of sith killing people over the holo. 

“I was afraid you might have forgotten our agreement—”

He didn’t remember _making_ an agreement.

“—so I sent some friends to jog your memories.” 

“Hope they weren’t close friends,” Jhonnen quipped, “I may have broken them.” 

“You promised to arrange a meeting for me with Diago—”

No he hadn’t. 

“—I want it. Now.” 

“You’re out of your goddamn mind,” Jhonnen said, thumb against the button to end the call if she got all murder-eyes or however their force banthashit worked. “I didn’t agree to fucking _anything_.” 

“How can _you_ reject _me_?” Zare demanded. “Your brain must be diseased or something.” 

“Or something.” 

Zare clicked her tongue with frustration. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to order my guards to kill you. There’s just no reasoning with some—” Jhonnen clicked the holo off. 

“Well shit.” 

“Any suggestions?” Corso asked, looking at the door. “We got no way of knowing how many are out there.” 

“Normally I would say _don’t die_ but right now, honestly, I’ve got nothing.” Jhonnen gave a jovial shrug to hide how panicked he was and opened the door, immediately rolling out of the way of the blasterfire. 

It wasn’t a _long_ standoff, Jhonnen suspected Zare had only been able to get her hands on so many commandos and they were outside freezing while Jhonnen and Corso were inside with temperature control. Jhonnen closed the door and locked it. “We’re crashing here tonight. Wanna cuddle?” 

“No.” 

“Your loss,” he beamed. “I am a tiny red furnace.” 

They each piled up what blankets and cushions they could find and Jhonnen lay back on his. “Something on your mind, Corso?” 

“Can’t stop thinking about Rona.” 

Jhonnen privately chided himself for asking. 

“My folks always said she’d come to no good in the big city, and there she is… a stooge for some spice smugglers.” 

_Kinda like you,_ Jhonnen thought uncharitably. “Look, you told her what you thought. That’s all you can do.” 

“Her life matters to me, Jhonnen.” Corso argued. “Hard to trust her with it when I see how she’s treated it.” 

“Do you respect her?” 

“‘Course I—”

“Then you have to show it. You have to let her fuck up.” 

Corso was quiet for a long moment and Jhonnen had a chance to hope that maybe, possibly, it was sinking in. 

“It’s not like I didn’t see it coming,” Corso sighed. “ _Doctor Hope_ … I just didn’t wanna think that was really who Rona’d fallen in with.” He frowned. “That’s what I get for trying to see the best in people.” 

“It’s not about that, Corso. It’s about knowing you’re being played and doing the right thing anyway and sometimes the right thing is letting people fuck themselves over.” 

“You really believe that.” 

“Mom and I had a tough life, every now and then some guy would try and rescue mom from it, but she liked what she did even if she didn’t like the circumstances. It was her choice.” He shrugged. “I smuggle weapons, spice, art and artifacts. It’s not safe and it’s not kind but it’s what I do, it’s my choice. If Rona were being forced into it or held against her will things would be different, but she’s not.” 

Corso pulled his legs to his chest. “Hadn’t thought about it like that.” 

* * *

Diago Hixan was a human male with wispy facial hair and a bad attitude but the real surprise when Jhonnen arrived was Qeno. She had one hand on her blaster and the other on her hip, staring down one of the baddest gang leaders in the galaxy.

Jhonnen’s heart fluttered. She was so cool. He was going to be just like her in another twenty years, now was just the time to practice. He caught eyes with Tookreek as he and Corso walked over the short bridge that spanned the thin underground river that gave the Lightspring it’s name. Tookreek gave a tiny nod in reply.

Diago, king in his castle, spat when he saw Jhonnen. “Another one come to irritate me like sand flies. Is _this_ how you serve Tookreek?” He shook his head. “ _Inept_.” 

“The sith and I have business. We have nothin’ to do with her.” 

“Business I would like to be done with, all things being equal,” Jhonnen said. “Hey Qeno.” 

“Hey Jhonnen.” She frowned a little, the flash of worry in her vibrant green eyes. “This might not have been the safest place for a deal though.” 

“Oh you have _no_ idea,” purred Zare. Jhonnen got the sense she’d been waiting for the chance to make an entrance. She fixed her black eyes on him and scowled. “Forcing me to follow you through that blazing desert? Not your best move.” 

“I’m usually good at not being followed so kudos to you,” quipped Jhonnen before his brain could stop him. 

“That _chill_ creeping down your spine right now? It’s regret.” Zare growled. 

“Give it up, Zare,” Qeno’s blaster was still down but her finger had curled around the trigger. “That kid doesn’t know when to give up.” 

Diago spat again. “Empty chatter, like fingernails on transparisteel. I will silence—”

Whatever else he’d been going to say was cut off as Jhonnen’s beeping holocomm demanded attention. All eyes turned to him and Jhonnen gave a sheepish smile and pushed to answer. 

“Rish? This is not a great time.” 

“Haven’t heard from you in a while. Everything alright?” 

“There’s a sith fighting for my attentions, but as usual I hand them undivided over to you.” 

Qeno snorted a laugh. 

“Such a professional,” Risha rolled her eyes, “who could resis—”

“Beautiful girl.” Diago murmured, his eyes fixed on the holocomm, “So beautiful.” 

“Wait. Is that him?” Risha’s whole manner changed, her eyes went wide and she turned in Jhonnen’s hand to look at Diago. “You’re with Diago? _Shit_.” The line went dead. 

Jhonnen started tucking his holo away when Diago grabbed him by the arm with a bone-bruising grip. “I want to see her again. _Now!_ ” 

“She—” Jhonnen pulled his arm free. “—doesn’t seem to to want to chat.” 

“Then bring her to me! She is mine.” 

“That would be up to Risha.” 

Zare spoke up then, apparently displeased with being ignored for so long. “Diago dear, I can offer you so much more—just as soon as this little thorn is eradicated.” She indicated Qeno. Qeno gave a cheeky wave. 

Zare turned to Jhonnen and waved her hand. “You want to draw your weapon, you want to kill her.” 

“Lady, I like her _way_ more than I like you.” 

Zare paused and then settled into a frown Jhonnen was tempted to call a pout. “Strong-minded, hmm? You’re no use to me.” Her hand went for the lightsaber at her belt. “Forgive me, dear Diago, but I really must kill these three before we continue.” 

“No more!” Diago shouted. “I’ll find the beautiful girl myself. Droids! Kill everyone!”

“But, boss,” Tookreek complained. “I didn’t do anything.” 

“Everyone!” 

“Jhonny! Move!” Qeno shouted and Jhonnen tucked and rolled out of the way as a half dozen armed droids made their appearance. He popped up and looked for Corso, finding the other man behind Diago’s personal bar. 

The droids were fighting everyone and Zare was fighting the droids and Qeno was fighting Zare and that left Diago’s attention on Jhonnen—the key to his “beautiful girl.” He fired, aiming for arms and legs but Jhonnen was a small target and he moved quick, ducking around behind Zare so she deflected Diago’s blaster fire for him. 

When she wrapped her will around his throat to punish his impudence, Qeno shot her in the back of the head while Corso snuck up and blasted Diago from the side. 

“Thanks,” Jhonnen gave a small nod, feeling around his neck for the strange force (hah) that had almost suffocated him. “I owe you one.” 

“Make it up to me later.” Qeno kissed his temple. “Unless you’ve got a date with that _beautiful girl_ Diago got all moonstruck over.” 

“Whatever I am, Risha seems only slightly more interested in me than Corso does,” Jhonnen grinned. “Besides, a date’s a date.”

“My place or yours?” 

“Yours’d be quieter.” 

“So you won’t be staying the night?” she teased. 

“I’ve got places to be, work to do.” 

“I understand.” Qeno stooped and picked up a small red box. “And here’s what I came for. Been a treat boys, and I’ll see you later, Hotstuff.” She smacked him on the ass on her way out. 

Jhonnen smiled after her. 

“Sure you’re not in love with her, Boss?” Corso asked teasingly. 

“I’m sure,” Jhonnen laughed in reply. “It’s more that I want to be her when I grow up. She’s the absolute coolest.” He grinned. “C’mon, lets rummage through this shit and find that sensor computer.” 

They dug around in various stacks until Corso accidentally turned on a holorecording and the watched Diago rant about Nok Drayen and the woman he’d stolen. 

Jhonnen picked up the computer and tucked it in his pack. 

“Ready to head back to _The Tick_?” 

Corso gave an enthusiastic nod. 

“Good.” 

* * *

Jhonnen returned to _The Tick_ two hours after Corso with a spring in his step and his hair still wet from Qeno’s fresher. He swung into the cargo hold, catching himself thinking of it as _Risha’s Room_ and hung on the door frame.

“You’re late.” 

“Figured you needed time to install that thing.” He beamed. “Take it Corso mentioned I was going to be delayed.” 

She nodded. “He seemed to find the whole thing utterly indecent.” 

“Well he’s young,” Jhonnen shrugged, deciding again not to care that he was a paltry two years Corso’s senior. “Do _you_ find it indecent?” 

“Not particularly,” Rishas looked up. “So, what happened?”

“A little shouting, a little gunplay, Diago passed away in all the chaos.” 

“He’s dead,” her eyes widened a little. “Good! I mean,” she cleared her throat and it was the most emotional thing he’d ever seen her do. “For your reputation. Sorry I didn’t get to chat with him, my holo malfunctioned.” 

It wasn’t even a _good_ lie, but Jhonnen let her have it. He’d unravel her secrets eventually. 

“We should get that fixed.” 

“Mm.” 

The silence hung there for a little while before Jhonnen broke it. “Do you look like your mother?” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t look much like mine, she passed just before we met.” He leaned back against a crate and watched her work. “The way Diago lost his shit over you made me wonder if your mom was one of the women he and Drayen fought over.” 

Risha’s hands stopped moving. Her voice, however, remained steady. “. . . you were listening.”

“I _always_ listen when you talk.”

Risha raised one brow skeptically. 

“No,” Jhonnen shook his head. “I mean that. I’m not certain you’re not going to try and kill me. Some bit of trivia might save my life. ‘Sides, you’re interesting, genuinely sort of fascinating.” 

“Oh,” Risha went back to work. “Thank you.” 


	7. War And Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen lands on Alderaan, meets a pretty boy and dissing Skavak.

“Alderaan certainly is the prettiest world on our itinerary,” Risha said as Jhonnen went to find her. “Don’t let all that breathtaking scenery fool you. This is the most dangerous planet of the core worlds.” 

“Well, you’re a little type o star this morning, so bright and cheery.” Jhonnen leaned in the doorway and took her in before entering the cargo hold proper. “Actually stars don’t have dispositions really I don’t think but, eh, fuck it.” 

“The nobles here could teach the sith something about backstabbing and assassinations.”

“Don’t worry Rish, I’m confident you’re ten times more terrifying than any backstabbing assassin,” he paused, “or rancor for that matter.” 

“Aren’t you sweet.” 

“A backstabbing rancor is the stuff of nightmares.” Jhonnen shuddered. “Sneaky rancors.” 

Risha chuckled. “Back to business please.” 

“Yes, mom.” Jhonnen rolled his eyes and then grinned. “So, what’s our business here?”

“Your first delivery is a piece of glaze cake.”

He did not trust that turn of phrase. It reminded him of the phrase “milk run” and all “milk runs” ended in gunfire. 

True story. 

“All you have to do is escort that antique power droid to House Organa’s castle. Since House Organa runs this spaceport and their castle is right around the corner, dropping off the droid should be a quick run.” 

“And after the droid?” Jhonnen asked. “What then? The head?” 

“One deal at a time. Let’s focus on dumping that bucket of bolts. The droid belongs to a couple of young nobles, Lenn Teraan and his sister Cedonia. Decent people, all things considered.” 

“I’ll take Bowdaar and head out. Think you can manage Corso for an hour or so?” 

“I think I’ll be alright.” 

Jhonnen worried while Risha got the gonk droid ready. Organa was a Republic ally, and a big one. Which was all well and good because Jhonnen had no tie to the empire. The problem came with people’s assumptions. 

One look at him and all they’d see was red sith. It was part of why he dressed the way he did, comfortable shirts and pants with lots of pockets, blaster clearly visible on his hip. Blaster, and one no one could look at and think was a lightsaber. His mother had worn sith jewelry but it had added to her mystique. She’d needed to stand out. 

Jhonnen had had an earring, now deposited on his mother’s shrine at the Panwa Muni stripclub. 

But most people wouldn’t notice that he didn’t wear jewelry. They wouldn’t notice the blaster. They would notice the tendrils of bone and skin that dripped down his jawline and the ridges on the backs of his elbows. 

He sighed and ran a hand through his short red hair. There was nothing for it. 

They got stopped as soon as they left the ship and Jhonnen’s actual ident was run three times to be sure there wasn’t an error. He’d thought about using Jonathan Leaveson, but with tensions as high as they were he didn’t relish the possibility of an error. 

They were almost done with these weird errands, he didn’t want his own paranoia to be the reason they failed now. 

He couldn’t help but feel that it might have been a better idea to have Corso and Bowdaar make this run without him, however. 

Alderaan was pretty enough, Jhonnen guessed, if you liked trees and mountains. Personally he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Planets like Nar Shaddaa and Coruscant had left him fairly useless without street signs. Tatooine was always unpleasant but at least he knew it was going to be unpleasant and no one tried to fucking romanticise it. 

Alderaan left him feeling lost. 

It was pretty, sure, but he would be happier once he was back in space. 

* * *

Lenn and Cedonia Teraan were human, like most if not all Alderaanian nobles. Jhonnen and Bowdaar walked the Gonk droid up many flights of stairs and into the sitting room. “Hiya. You made a deal with a woman named Risha for this droid? I’m here to collect.” 

“Welcome home, you ugly little thing,” Lenn made eye contact with Jhonnen and smiled. “I mean the droid of course.” 

He was cute. A little well-bred for Jhonnen’s usual tastes, but hella cute. 

“This is no time for your juvenile jokes, Lenn,” scolded a woman Jhonnen could only assume was Lenn’s sister Cedonia. “We should properly introduce ourselves. I am Lady Cedonia Teraan, Herald of the Gold Aurora.” 

“And I’m her brother, Lord Lenn Teraan, Warden of the Eternal Flame.” His smile didn’t dim and his eyes didn’t leave Jhonnen’s. It mostly made up for the stupid, stupid titles. “Please, call me Lenn.” 

“You’re the best thing I’ve seen all day, Lenn,” Jhonnen said with a smile of his own. 

Lenn blushed. “Last time someone made me blush, I was just a boy.” 

Lady Cedonia cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. “My brother and I are all that remains of House Teraan’s noble bloodline.”

Jhonnen listened idly, mostly watching Lenn’s mouth, as it was explained that their family had been slaughtered. Which was terrible, actually. He immediately felt bad for not paying more close attention at the start of the conversation. 

“You still have this old clunker, for whatever it’s worth,” Jhonnen leaned his back against the droid. 

“This droid holds new hope for us—literally,” explained Lady Cedonia. “Centuries ago, our ancestors hid something inside for safekeeping.” 

“Neat.” 

“Pirates absconded with the unfashionable machine generations ago,” Lenn continued. “Tracking it down has consumed our family since before we were born.” 

“Well I’m just happy I could help,” Jhonnen said. Maybe this would be a piece of glaze cake. 

“We need instructions to open the hidden compartment,” Lady Cedonia shook her head. “It’s rigged to explode, you see.” 

Jhonnen, very slowly, stopped leaning on the ~~bomb~~ droid. He eyed it with supreme distrust and wondered whether Risha had known or not. 

Probably. 

And she’d had it on his ship anyway. 

He’d kill her. 

“The instructions are at our family’s estate, now occupied by House Baliss’s forces. Without those instructions, we can’t pay you.” 

Jhonnen deflated. “Quick Run,” Risha had said. “Glaze Cake.” The liar. 

“The instructions we need are in a datapad of Teraan family history at our estate’s library,” Lady Cedonia said, indifferent to Jhonnen’s deflation. 

“Cedonia,” Lenn cleared his throat. “It’s almost time for that meeting with House Organa. Why don’t you go chat with them in my place?” 

“How shocking,” Lady Cedonia rolled her eyes. “That you’d rather stay with the handsome stranger.” She sighed and smiled with a shake of her head. “Very well. I’ll return as soon as I’m able.” 

“Bowdaar,” Jhonnen looked up at the wookiee and offered a winning smile. “Can you give us a minute?” 

<< I will wait in the hall. >>

“You are the best.” 

Corso would have bitched about it. 

Lenn waited until they were alone before letting his posture relax. “I thought she’d never leave,” he said, hopefully talking about his sister, “My dear sister has the charisma of a killik.” He smiled at Jhonnen. “You, on the other hand, are endlessly charming.” 

“Flatterer,” Jhonnen replied. “I like it.” 

Lenn laughed, a warm, tittering sound. “I’m many things but shy isn’t one of them,” he took a step closer and Jhonnen followed suit. “When you return with that datapad, I’ll have to find a creative means of… thanking you.” 

Jhonnen chuckled, “you’re not put off by all the red? Wasn’t expecting this when I rolled out of bed this morning.” 

“You’re striking in appearance,” Lenn praised. It felt like a line but Jhonnen wasn’t arguing. “And pleasant of conversation.” 

“Well, when I get back, I might have some suggestions on how you can thank me.” 

Lenn’s eyes widened. “I look forward to comparing notes.” He gave a sigh and turned away. “When this droid business is over, I might leave Alderaan. Put all the blood and feuding behind me. Spend the rest of my life as a galactic vagabond. Wouldn’t that be grand?” 

You would be dead in a week, Jhonnen tactfully didn’t say. It was a sad thought, Lenn’s biggest crime seemed to be the gilded cage he’d grown up in and in that sense he wasn’t that much different from Corso. 

He was hotter than Corso. 

And probably had a better understanding of the underbelly of human nature, given all the backstabbing and murder that happened on Alderaan between the nobles. 

But still, not that much different. 

He called Risha on the way to House Baliss to fill her in. 

* * *

Jhonnen recovered the datapad and even a handful of old relics that Lenn had mentioned and made his way back to Organa castle. Lenn beamed to see him. “Rumors are filling the holofrequencies of a daring robbery at our old estate.” His smile turned mischievous. “You’ve set a lot of tongues wagging.” 

“I’m good at that,” he produced the datapad and grinned. “I’m good with tongues in general.” 

Lady Cedonia rolled her eyes. 

“In other exciting gossip House Baliss is missing a datapad from its new library. Imagine that.” Jhonnen held the datapad up and then handed it over. 

“I’ll let my dear sister have the honors.” Lenn said. “Never could decipher that blasted thing.” 

“It’s a simple code,” Cedonia said, and then began to explain a code that—while more interesting than bird watching on Ord Mantell—seemed fairly complicated to Jhonnen. Not insurmountable, just complicated. 

“I’m sure Lenn’s just being modest,” Jhonnen defended. 

“Yes,” Cedonia rolled her eyes. “Modesty is one of his most famous qualities.” 

“It’s true,” chuckled Lenn, “Everyone says so.” 

Cedonia rolled her eyes harder and stalked to the droid to begin disarming it. Jhonnen leaned against Bowdaar to watch, praying quietly that she had gotten the code right and that nothing was going to explode.

<< I hope the pretty lady doesn’t explode >>

“Me too, big guy.” 

Explosions were bad.

“I’ve got it!” Cedonia half-shouted. “After all these centuries, we finally have our proof!” 

Lenn stood up. Jhonnen straightened up. 

“The information on this holochip proves House Teraan is owed a considerable number of credits. When the other families hear of this, we will regain our status among the nobility.”

“I’m happy for you, honest.” 

“You’re too kind,” Lenn gave a tiny bow. 

“I must leave at once to have this data authenticated by the Royal Council. Lenn, see to our hero’s payment.” 

“Nothing would please me more, dear sister.”

Jhonnen looked up at Bowdaar. “Bowdaar?” 

<< I understand >>

Jhonnen had never heard a wookie sound exasperated before. 

“No, I mean, is it cool if I stick around for a bit?” 

<< I want to go climb a tree before we leave anyway. >>

Jhonnen watched him leave and shook his head. “I do not deserve that man’s friendship—” he turned and was cut off by Lenn’s mouth crushed against his own. Jhonnen made a pleased noise in the back of his throat and tangled his fingers in Lenn’s shirt as the kiss ended. 

“I have a little surprise for you.” 

“That was surprising,” Jhonnen pointed out. “I love surprises.” 

“I’ve arranged a private dinner in your honor. House Organa’s chef is the best on Alderaan.” Lenn’s smile grew. “I even hired musicians to serenade you. We’ll eat and talk and dance and . . . well, who knows what we’ll get up to.” 

Jhonnen could perfectly recall the last time he’d been on anything that looked like a date. He’d been twenty at Club Vertica playing trophy boyfriend to Qeno’s lucky streak. It had been a good time. 

He grinned all the wider and kissed Lenn back. “Sounds fun, Handsome. Can’t wait.” 

* * *

“What took you so long?” Corso asked as Jhonnen fell backwards over his couch in the lounge and stretched out like a contented loth-cat. 

“His name was Lenn,” Jhonnen purred. “And yes, it was excellent.” 

“Do I wanna know?” 

“I fucked a man, Corso, that’s all there is to it.” Jhonnen opened his eyes, daring the other man to comment. “Least I deserve after a quick run involved the better part of two days.” He looked pointedly towards the cargo hold. “I should use the fresher and check in on her majesty.” 

Jhonnen didn’t bother to put a shirt on when he left the refresher and made his way to the cargo hold. “I got your shield,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, “hope you’re not too miffed at my brief absence. The Lord was insistent that I stay for dinner.”

“I heard.” She gave him a cruel smile, looking him up and down. “That wasn’t too bad was it?” 

“I got shot at.” 

“Bowdaar mentioned. Your next delivery is to take that head in the jar to a sniveling little stuffed-shirt named Peema Ahuff.”

Jhonnen nodded. 

“Peema is at House Alde’s estate. You’ll have to sneak through some tough battle zones to get there.” 

“What else do you know?” Jhonnen asked, not looking forward to getting shot at again. 

“They’re Alderaan’s original rulers,” Risha said with a scoff. “They’ve lost most of their political power but none of their snootiness.” 

“Sounds fun,” Jhonnen lied. 

“Can’t wait to ditch that creepy head,” Corso volunteered as he passed. “I swear its eyes follow me around the cargo hold.” 

“He’s right, you know,” Jhonnen said. “It is pretty creepy.” 

“This is one delivery I recommend keeping covered.” Risha cautioned. “Let’s not upset the locals any more than we need to. Good luck,” her eyes dipped just a little and Jhonnen smiled as he left. 

* * *

Reaching Peema was the easy part. The hard part was learning that he apparently already had the head of Darth Bandon. 

Also, apparently the head in a jar belonged to some guy named Darth Bandon, fun fact.

“This is the real head,” Jhonnen crossed his arms and hoped it was actually the real head—point of interest: he never wanted to hope for that again. 

“How dare you,” huffed Peema. “House Alde does not make mistakes.” He turned and hollered into the hall for someone named “Kaddreth.”

Jhonnen was pleasantly surprised to learn that Kaddreth was not the head of security, but rather a frail looking human male with tired eyes. “Yes, Noble Curator,” he said with a low bow, “how may I serve your impeccable rectitude.” 

“Where is Neva? I want her to run the genetic authenticator on this head and prove it’s a fake.” 

Jhonnen got a bad feeling.

“I haven’t seen Neva since she authenticated the other head yesterday, Noble Curator. I sent a message to her holo, but she never replied.” 

Jhonnen got a worse feeling. “Can you authenticate this head?” 

“I would rather not,” Kaddreth said, “it is rather ugly.” 

“Kaddreth, perform a genetic authentication on this head at once. Compare the results to the head we received yesterday.” 

Kaddreth sighed. “I beg your patience, Noble Curator. This process will take some time.” 

Jhonnen and Bowdaar waited outside and Jhonnen filled Bowdaar in on all the details about how much of a pain in the ass Skavak had been since Ord Mantell. It was comforting knowing that, given the chance, Bowdaar would kill a man for him. 

Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

They were resummoned for the results and Kaddreth looked both apologetic and distraught as he revealed that the head Jhonnen had brought was genuine and the head House Alde had received the day before was not. 

“Who brought you the other head?” he asked, feeling he already knew the answer.

“The same man who promised he could obtain it.” Peema moved to the holoterminal to place a call, surprising no one when Skavak came into view. 

“Heya Jhonnen, you’re a little late to the party.” 

“Hey babe, hoped it was you.” 

“Hope you don’t mind, Peemie,” Skavak turned his attention back to the the curator. “But Neva’s taking an early retirement. She’s too gorgeous for life in a museum.” 

“What?!” Peema shouted. “You… You… menace! You corrupted that girl.” 

“Wasn’t that hard, trust me.” 

Jhonnen hid a smirk. 

<< Enough talk! Let’s kill him! >> Bowdaar hollered, fired up from their earlier conversation. 

“Easy there, Scruffy.” Skavak looked back at Jhonnen. “I see your taste in friends hasn’t improved.” 

“You two should meet.” 

“No thanks, wouldn’t want to catch any fleas.” 

Jhonnen’s usually pleasant expression sharpened into a glower, one well suited to stern sith features. He would kill Skavak. 

“Oh I wish I had a holo of your face right now. That expression is just priceless. Have fun eating my vapor trails.” The line went dead.

“This is unthinkable!” Peema went off. “Skavak has committed a grievous affront to House Alde!”

“Hey, I’m the one apparently not getting paid,” Jhonnen reminded him.

“The hyperdrive was to be your payment.” Peema explained. “It’s an extraordinary apparatus, custom-built by one of Arkania’s most brilliant engineers.” He rubbed his chin. “Skavak received the Arkanian hyperdrive at the spaceport yesterday. If he’s still there, he must not have finished installing it.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “C’mon Bowdaar. We’d better hurry.” 

He holo’d The Tick as he left the museum at a jog. “Risha, hi, hey, Skavak has my hyperdrive.” 

“He what?” 

“Send Corso out to find out what docking bay the motherfucker is in. He can’t leave ‘til he gets it installed.” 

“How did this happen?” 

“Less gab more sending Corso to make sure Skavak doesn’t escape, Rish, I’ll explain everything later.” He hung up and grabbed the first speeder he found, waiting until Bowdaar was on behind him to rocket towards the spaceport. 

“How is every peace officer on Alderaan not currently up this guy’s ass?” Jhonnen yelled over the wind. “I deliberately re-fucked his record.” 

<< We’ll get him! >>

“Thanks, big guy!”

They landed and Jhonnen pulled out his holo. “Corso? Tell me you’ve got something.” 

“Hangar RS-32, I’ll meet you there!” 

Skavak had locked down the hangar (because of course he had) and hired mercenaries (because why wouldn’t he) but they proved ineffective against two gunslingers and a pissed off wookiee. 

Most things are ineffective against a pissed off wookiee.

Pissed off wookiees, however, are not faster than the average starship and Jhonnen hit the hangar floor in time to watch Skavak fly off in probably another stolen ship. He rolled his eyes so hard he thought they would sprain. 

“How does he always manage to get away?” asked Corso.

Movement caught Jhonnen’s eye and his hand went back to his blaster as more mercenaries, weapons drawn, popped out of cover. “Son of a—”

A portable holo device clicked on, displaying—surprise, surprise—Skavak. He plastered a condescending grin on his mouth. “You didn’t waste any time, did you Jhonnen? Bet you ran quicker than a varactyl on hot sand—not that it mattered.” 

<< I hate this man. >> Bowdaar warbled calmly. Jhonnen nodded his agreement. 

“Sorry I can’t be there in person,” Skavak continued, a man in love with his own dulcet tones. “But my sweet little Neva is very sensitive to violence. Don’t worry though, my friends here will show you a good time.” 

“What? No personal touch?” 

“It’s just that this way I can watch you get slaughtered from every conceivable angle. Isn’t technology wonderful?”

“Kinky.” Jhonnen fingered a pocket and produced a small firework. He looked at the armed mercenaries as Skavak needlessly explained that they were there to kill him. He dropped the popper behind him and crushed it with his heel, releasing a loud bang that gave him the opportunity to get behind cover. 

Pissed off wookiee and gunslingers 1, Mercenaries 0. 

Jhonnen walked back to the holo and made a show of flexing. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?” 

“You’re either the luckiest shot in the galaxy or those were some seriously unlucky mercenaries.” 

“Little of column a, little of column b, little of column go fuck a rancor.” 

“Guess I’ll delete this holorecording.” 

“After all my hard work?” Jhonnen clicked his tongue. “At least send me a copy first.” 

“What, for your scrapbook?” Skavak snorted. 

“Everyone needs a hobby,” Jhonnen shrugged.

Skavak fought not to frown, the glare evident even through his layer of forced nonchalance. “Hate to cut things short, but I’ve got a swanky new hyperdrive to install. Love that Arkanian tech.”

Jhonnen pulled out his holo and Skavak’s died and dialed Risha. “We have a problem.” 

“I know,” Risha said, her mouth tucked into a frown. “The good news is, I tracked Skavak’s ship to House Thul’s spaceport. He must have gone there to finish installing that hyperdrive. There’s still time to get him.” 

“I’ll fly us to that other spaceport in no time.” Jhonnen started to head towards the entrance of the hangar. 

“Throttle down there, Jhonnen. It’s not that simple. The Empire controls House Thul. Skavak has landing clearance from the Imperials but you—”

“Risha,” Jhonnen said evenly. “I’m a smuggler, a red sith, and not a Republic Citizen. I actually have this one in the bag.” 

* * *

Jhonnen produced a long black robe from under his mattress and grabbed some eyeliner as soon as he returned to The Tick. He dressed in all black and pulled the robes on for good measure, then her set to applying heavy eyeliner to masquerade as darkside corruption. 

Risha stared at him as he passed. 

“What?” 

“Just amazed that you have all this stuff lying around.” 

“I’ve made deliveries to Imperial-controlled worlds,” Jhonnen reminded her. “A good ruse goes a long way.”

“Can you do the accent?” 

Jhonnen grinned and, in a careful Imperial accent said, “Witless dog, the assumption that I, the great Lord Nah-ticus would have to fake an accent.” 

Risha stared at him. “That’s… where’d you learn to do that?” 

“My mom, mostly,” Jhonnen admitted, “a friend growing up helped me smooth out the vowels though. She was imperial, on the run from… something. We never really talked about it.” 

“Where is she now?” 

Jhonnen faltered. He thought about Kira, blood slick on her arms the same color as he was. Her determined expression as she told him the Ur’kossags would never, never, bully her people again. “I don’t, I don’t know.” Jhonnen swallowed and licked his lips. “I haven’t seen her in… a while.” 

“Difficult subject?” 

“Rough memory.” 

They neared the spaceport and Jhonnen pulled the hood up on his robe. He paced in front of the holoterminal while his landing credentials were processed and they were granted clearance to land. 

“Alright flyboy,” Risha gave a tiny nod. “I’m impressed. What’s your plan from here?” 

“Find Skavak, steal his hyperdrive, maybe kick him in the taint?” 

Jhonnen flipped his hood up. “Corso, can you pretend like you’re downtrodden and abused for twenty minutes?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to pretend that you’re either a slave or a hired gun. Take your pick.” He cleared his throat and then affected an Imperial accent again. “It’s only until we get into Skavak’s hangar. 

“I’ll be a hired gun.” 

“Peachy.” Jhonnen, as Lord Nahticus, exited The Tick with Corso on his heels and brushed his ident card over the terminal in what he thought was an appropriately sithy way, trusting to the general fear of sith lords to keep anyone from doubting him and to the weight of the blaster beneath his robes if everything suddenly exploded. 

With Corso watching his back, Jhonnen haltingly sliced a terminal to find a list of recent arrivals and chose the one most likely to be Skavak’s. Walking quickly and with purpose had and Corso made their way there and once inside, Jhonnen pulled his blaster but kept it concealed. 

They found a harried looking neimoidian mechanic and the Arkanian hyperdrive half installed. Jhonnen tapped the mechanic with his blaster and dropped the accent. “Hiya, seen Skavak lately?” 

<< He took a shuttle offworld to get supplies, >> said the mechanic, eyes on the blaster barrel. << Please don’t kill me. >>

Jhonnen raised his brow. 

The mechanic wilted. << My name’s Vonddado Briimyo. I fix starships. Skavak kidnapped me. On minute, we were drinking Corellian whiskey at the cantina. The next, I was his prisoner. >>

“The man is a class act,” Jhonnen clicked his tongue. 

<< Humans are all so adorable-looking. I can never tell the good ones from the bad. >>

Jhonnen nodded sympathetically and looked at Corso, batting his eyelashes. “They are just the cutest, aren’t they.” 

<< I. . . I heard you and Skavak arguing over the ship’s holo. You want the Arkanian hyperdrive? Take it! The spaceport comm channel announced there’s a shuttle leaving in a few minutes. I can be on it if I hurry. >>

“Give me the hyperdrive and you can go.” Jhonnen waited while his request was obeyed and waved goodbye as Briimyo scurried off. 

Jhonnen tucked the hyperdrive into his robes and lead the way back to his hangar and boarded The Tick. He left his disguise on while they got clearance to take off and shed it as the ship broke free of the port. 

<< You have a call, >> Bowdaar called. 

“Ooh.” Jhonnen grinned. “Maybe it’s Skavak.” He half-skipped to the holoterminal and clicked to answer, greeted instead with the worried face of Cedonia Teraan. 

Jhonnen corrected his dopey grin into something more respectful. “Lady Teraan?” 

“Thank the stars!” Lady Cedonia exclaimed, too worried to concern herself with Jhonnen’s thick eyeliner or black robe. “We’re in desperate need and you’re the only one we can turn to.” 

Jhonnen stared at her, confused and moderately alarmed. 

Lenn took over the holo with a shaky smile. “Duke Baliss was offended by your visit to our former home. He’s demanding satisfaction.” He folded his hands in front of himself to keep them from shaking. “The duke is sending his son, Xin Baliss—Alderaan’s finest marksman—to challenge me to a pistol duel to the death.” 

“What do you need from me?” 

Lady Cedonia reappeared. “My brother never mastered the art of the blaster. He can’t possibly face Xin.” 

Jhonnen, Jhonnen thought, don’t you dare— “I get it and I’ll be there soon.” Are you fucking kidding me?

Lenn’s features relaxed a little. “I knew I—we—could count on you.” 

Because I am stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

The holo flicked off and Jhonnen darted for the refresher to wash off at least some of the eyeliner. He grabbed a change of clothes, pulling on the pants in his bedroom and the shirt as he power-walked to the helm and set course for the Organa’s spaceport. 

“You’re not seriously considering this.” Risha chided.

“Remember when you asked how much trouble my good person policy was going to get us in?” Jhonnen flopped into the Captain’s seat. “Now you know.” 

“And what am I supposed to do if you die?” 

“Bury me?” Jhonnen looked up. “Actually, I’d rather be burned. Relax, Rish. I’m actually a fair to decent gun-hand.” 

“Fair to decent doesn’t count in pistol duels,” Risha pointed out. 

Jhonnen rolled his eyes. 

* * *

Xin was the sort of git Jhonnen had always enjoyed putting in his place. He was pacing in front of Lenn when Jhonnen and Bowdaar arrived, gloating over the lack of a champion and remarking on how Cedonia would soon be the last Teraan. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jhonnen quipped. “Traffic.” 

“Just in time. We were,” Lenn cleared his throat, “about to start without you.” 

“Well that’s no fun.” Jhonnen gave Lenn a warm, confident smile and hoped he was backing it up with more than just luck and bravado. 

“Ah,” Xin recovered from his surprise at Jhonnen’s appearance enough to say in what Jhonnen widely considered to be a stereotypical villain voice. It reminded him of some of the thugs who thought they were crime bosses in their own right. Who thought they were classy. “House Teraan’s champion finally arrives. Is this—” he paused and Jhonnen raised a brow. 

Oh yes dipshit, he thought, I’m as red as your masters. 

“—common thug truly the best you people could do.” 

<< He can’t hold a blaster with no arms,” Bowdaar observed. 

“A very good point, Bowdaar,” Jhonnen nodded, happy to milk the common thug angle for a while. “But sadly, not how duels are supposed to work. I think anyway.” 

“Silence your vile pet or I’ll have it sent to the zoo.” 

“Hey!” Jhonnen snapped. “I’m way too pretty for a zoo.” 

Xin’s whole face scrunched with displeasure at being mocked. “You must be the vermin who invaded my family’s home and stole our property.” 

“A little.” 

“You’ve save me the trouble of hunting down an executing you.” 

“That’s because I’m a nice guy,” Jhonnen winked.

“I’m not.” 

Xin’s hand shot for his blaster but Jhonnen got to his first. He aimed for center mass and caught Xin in the stomach and then in the chest. He kicked the other man’s blaster away and put him out of his misery before putting his blaster away. 

“Asshole,” he muttered before turning back to the Teraan’s. “I’ve actually never fought a duel before. Hope that’s how it’s supposed to go.” 

Lady Cedonia stared at him. “You—you saved my brother’s life.” 

Jhonnen grinned. He’d saved a life. It felt good. 

“Not only that,” Lenn added, rising off of the couch he’d been sitting on. “You did it with style! Where did you learn to fight like that?” 

“It’s mostly reflexes and happy childhood memories,” Jhonnen said, thinking back to the first time Vivex had put a blaster in his tiny hands and had him practice on bottles behind Panwa Muni. 

“Drat. I was hoping you could give me some pointers.” 

“Center mass,” Jhonnen said. “Headshots are flashy but easy to miss.” He looked at Lenn’s mouth and decided against it with Cedonia in the room. He did wink, however. 

Lenn blushed a little and covered with a small cough. 

“There are no words to express our gratitude,” Cedonia said, all business. “This reward will have to suffice.” 

“I’m just glad I could help. There’s a shortage of pretty faces in the galaxy, I’d have missed Lenn’s.” 

“And I’ll miss yours,” Lenn leaned down and planted a small kiss on Jhonnen’s mouth. “Thank you, my hero.” 

Jhonnen grinned so brightly it threatened to sunburn.

* * *

<< Your saving of Teraan reminded me that on Kashyyyk we spoke of life debts, >> Bowdaar said as he and Jhonnen made their way back towards the spaceport. << A wookiee whose life was saved, owed his service for life. >>

Jhonnen thought about Lenn and wrinkled his nose while laughing. “Sounds like marriage, or worse: slavery. No thanks.” 

<< I have been a slave. I would not do it again for any debt. >>

“Good,” Jhonnen said emphatically. “You deserve better.” 

<< I do honor you. I will not leave lightly. >>

“I appreciate that Bowdaar, and I love having you around, but if at any point you wanna bail just let me know. I’ll take you where you want to go.” 

<< Thank you. >> Bowdaar warbled. << But there is more. Others suffer while I am free. I would help them if I can. >>

Jhonnen opened the hangar door. “We should do that. Let me know if I can help.” 

Risha was waiting outside the ship when they returned, leaning idly against the landing gear. Her eyes traveled the stern angles of Jhonnen’s face before they dropped to inspect him for blaster burns. 

“You’re alive,” she said callously. 

“You should see the other guy,” Jhonnen replied. He paused. “He’s not. Alive. That is.” 

“I gathered.” The sliver of a cruel smirk clung to Risha’s mouth.

“Admit it,” Jhonnen grinned, “you’re falling for me almost as hard and fast as Corso is.” 

“I don’t mix business and pleasure,” Risha quipped. She smirked, a kinder one than usual. “Of course, someday we’ll run out of business.” 

Oh no she’s still hot. 

“I’d glad we’re done here.” Risha said as the door closed behind them. “It’s funny… I can’t help thinking Nok Drayen would have hated this world as much as I do. Legend is, Nok was descended from royal blood. They say that’s how he got to be King Of The Galactic Underworld before he died.” 

“How did he die?” Jhonnen asked, more interested in learning what Risha knew than learning about a dead crime boss.

“Every spacer from Abregado-rae to Yavin has a theory,” Risha said with a shrug as she headed back to the cargo hold. “Some say he was shot in the back by a Rodian. Anyone who actually knew Nok would say that’s ridiculous. Others say he was killed by his most trusted lieutenant. A few say he died in his sleep.” 

She spoke like she’d known him. 

“What’s your take?”

“That the galaxy is full of people with too much time on their—” her holo beeped. “This should be good.” She raised and lowered her eyebrows at Jhonnen as Skavak materialized in her palm. “Hello, Skavak. How’s tricks?” 

“Just fantasizing about killing you and your friend, sweetheart. Want to hear the details?” 

“Is it a dirty fantasy?” Jhonnen asked with a wry grin. “Because I love the idea of being included.” 

“We’re leaving Alderaan with all the prizes,” Risha cooed, “and you’re… well, stuck being you.” 

“Have fun while it lasts, kids. The end of the ride is coming soon.” Skavak hung up. 

Risha’s holo beeped again and she blinked at it, switching channels to take the call with Jhonnen still standing there. “Juran? I haven’t seen you in forever.” There was honest emotion on her face, just the smallest touch of worry. “I’d love to catch up, but this isn’t the best time. 

“Someone took Audila. Said I’d get her back in pieces if you don’t come. Pieces!” Juran was a panicked togruta male who didn’t seem to either notice or care that Jhonnen was watching. “You have to help me.” 

Risha’s exterior melted a little. “Juran, I won’t let anything happen to you or Audila. Calm down and start over.” She listened patiently through the halting, panicked explanation that his wife had been kidnapped, pausing only to explain to Jhonnen that they were childhood friends. 

“I’ll lay in a course for Tatooine,” Jhonnen said. “We’ll get your friend back.” 

“Thanks flyboy, I need to think of a plan.”


	8. Daddy Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Risha's connection to Nok Drayen is revealed, Skavak is put out of Jhonnen's misery.

Jhonnen had expected Corso to say something about Risha volunteering to be bait, but, while he didn’t look happy about it, he was silent. Jhonnen wanted to say something supportive and encouraging but decided that treating it like it was the most normal thing in the world was probably better suited to the long term goal of _making_ it a normal thing. 

Maybe someday Corso would voice dissent on the basis of “using yourself as bait is a stupid plan” rather than, Jhonnen assumed, “girls shouldn’t do that.” 

And it _was_ a stupid plan, it was just the only plan they had.

Fifty-fifty survival odds weren’t how Jhonnen _liked_ spending a day. Jhonnen and Corso (in case Bowdaar wouldn’t fit in the ore shaft) took the speeder to hidden ore shaft that would get them into the system of caves Audila was being held in and Jhonnen fought to quiet his own concerns. 

_Risha_ and _Audila_ were the ones in trouble. Who ever the kidnapper was could just decide to shoot them both. Or just shoot Risha. 

This train of thought did nothing to quiet Jhonnen’s anxiety as he entered the cool depths of the ore shaft, Corso behind him. They crept through the tunnels, keeping low and quiet, blasters out and at the ready.

Jhonnen and Corso came out _behind_ the kidnappers, as Risha had planned, and just in time to hear something vague about a king that Jhonnen decided was less pressing than the signal: her offer herself in exchange for the life of her very pretty (very married) friend. 

“Unfortunately for your Togruta friend, I’m to leave no witnesses. Besides, this planet offers precious little else in the way of entertainment.” 

Jhonnen gestured to the the guard closest to Audila and nudged Corso to get his attention. Corso aimed at that mook while Jhonnen centered his blaster on the back of the leader’s head. 

Pop. Pop. Pop. 

All three went down. 

Risha darted to Audila. “Are you—” 

“That man kidnapped me because of _you_ , Risha.” Audila pulled away, furious and on the verge of tears. “He was going to kill us _both_. Why?” 

Risha faltered for the first time since Jhonnen had met her. “It—it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry for what happened but it’s over.” 

“You’re _sorry?”_ Audila scoffed. “He held me prisoner for days—threatened to _kill me_ , and you’re _sorry?_ ”

Audila’s tirade and Risha’s response were interrupted by a voice down the corridor and Juran came rushing towards them. “Audila! When I heard the shooting I thought—”

“She’s fine,” Jhonnen assured him. “Probably could use a hug.” 

Juran obliged, crushing his wife to him and kissing her temples and mouth. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” 

“I’m alright, Juran,” Audila assured him, her hand falling into his. “But I _never_ want to see Risha again. We’re done.” 

Risha looked stunned and hurt. “I just risked my life for you.” 

“She’s been panicked since she got Juran’s call,” Jhonnen pointed out. “She wouldn’t keep a secret without good reason.” 

Risha gave him a grateful look, it fit oddly on her face and he wasn’t sure what to do with it, but it was there. “I promise,” she told Audila, “I’ll explain everything to you, someday. Have I ever let you down?” 

Jhonnen thought about Kira. Maybe he should have given her a chance to really explain. He looked at Audila and remembered the fear and the anger that he’d felt all those years ago, how hard they were to throw aside. “Are you going to throw away everything you’ve had together?” 

Audila looked at the ground. “We’ve been through a lot; that’s what made this so horrible.” She sighed and shook her head, eyes squeezed closed to quell the tears. Juran squeezed her hand in his. “I need to get off this stinking planet—get a bit of distance—think.” 

“Here,” Risha said. “Take these credits. They’ll get you off Tatooine, help you start over someplace better.” 

Most places were better than Tatooine.

Well, most places that weren’t _Hutta_. 

“I’ll want that explanation someday, Risha. I’ll let you know where to find us.” Audila gave Juran’s hand another squeeze and had him lead her out of the tunnels. 

“I hope so,” Risha said in a small voice. She cleared her throat and turned her attention to Jhonnen. “Thanks for taking care of these scum, Captain. The galaxy is a better place without them.” 

“Please don’t call me Captain,” Jhonnen said with a sigh. “It’s weird. Are you alright?” 

He wanted to ask what this was about but felt now _might not_ be the time. 

“I’ll be fine,” Risha said firmly. “I’m always fine. Let’s get back to the ship.” 

* * *

Their last deal was back on Nar Shaddaa, a matter Risha smoothly glossed over with “I needed time to set up this deal.” 

Jhonnen pursed his lips at her, eyes narrowed, and looked at the slab of carbonite that was the last thing of _hers_ in his cargo hold. 

Normally things frozen in carbonite had a set destination. That destination could be fucked with, certainly, but Risha wasn’t a bounty hunter. She wasn’t even really a smuggler. She was… a middle man? She held herself like she was the Queen of a small planet. It was both undeniably attractive and mildly off-putting depending on Jhonnen’s mood. 

Currently. It was off-putting.

But he’d come this far. Jhonnen headed back to the helm and entered to coordinates for Nar Shaddaa’s Deucalon spaceport. 

He thought about calling Vivex and letting her know he was in the world, but he decided against it. It was all too much, too soon. She needed to let life get back to normal and no matter how much he loved her and she loved him, his presence hadn’t been “normal” for four years. 

They landed and Jhonnen headed to talk to Risha and figure out where her frozen friend was headed. 

Risha was studying the parcel when Jhonnen entered the cargo hold. “Have to give credit where it’s due, Jhonnen,” she said, turning to face him. “You’ve done an amazing job delivering this cargo. Always knew you would.” 

“We make a hell of a team, Rish,” Jhonnen agreed. 

“No one has ever come as close to finding Nok Drayen’s riches as we are now. How will you spend all that reward when you finally get it?” 

“This isn’t about money for you,” Jhonnen tilted his head. “When are you going to tell me what you’re getting out of it?” 

“I’ll tell you when I get it.” Risha said with a cold smile. “Your last job is taking the man in carbonite to these coordinates. It’s a restricted area, only us and the buyer will be there.” 

“ _Us_ ,” Jhonnen repeated. “So you’re tagging along for this one.” 

“That’s right, I’ll help you negotiate this deal personally. But don’t worry—I’m sure you’ll do most of the talking.” 

Jhonnen recovered from his surprise, wondering what her connection was to either the buyer or the frozen man. 

And wondering if this was the part where she tried to kill him and steal his ship. 

“Tell me about the buyer.” 

“I would if I could, but this particular buyer prefers to remain anonymous.” Risha shrugged. “I’ll run ahead and make sure everything’s in place. Meet me there with our friend in the carbonite.” 

Risha left and Jhonnen stared at the frozen man. Everything about this felt like a set up. Literally. Everything. 

He headed to the galley and found Bowdaar. “If Risha comes back without me, keep her off the ship until I get back.” 

<< You think she intends to double-cross you? >>

“I hope not, big guy, but she’s acting hella fucking squirrelly. If I die, try not to let Corso get himself killed?”

<< Bowdaar will do this. >>

“Thanks.” 

* * *

He took the frozen man to a secret med lab and that was weird. It wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d done at Risha’s request—that was probably delivering the head of Darth Bandon—but it was weird and when combined with how dodgey she was being about the whole thing it didn’t make him any more relaxed. 

He set up the carbonite where Risha told him too. 

“This is a big moment, Jhonnen,” she said, excitement speeding up her words. “Bigger than you probably realize. I’ve waited ten years for it.” 

“Please don’t shoot me.” Jhonnen sighed. “I actually like you.”

Risha actually laughed. “After all this time, you still don’t trust me? There’s hope for you yet.” 

“That’s great. Don’t shoot me.” 

Risha turned her attention to the selkath doctor standing by. “Doctor Chelah, let’s introduce Jhonnen to the man in carbonite. Begin the procedure.” 

<< Initializing carbon thawing and resuscitation. You may wish to shield your eyes. >>

Jhonnen obeyed, preferring the brief lapse in watching both of Risha’s hands to possible blindness. 

_Maybe_ she wasn’t betraying him. Maybe there was a good reason for all her cloak and dagger conversational skills. 

<< Vital signs are normal. He is regaining consciousness. >>

The carbonite thawed to reveal an older human male, heavily augmented with cybernetics. Risha caught him as he fell and then backed away immediately once he’d found his feet. 

“How long has it been?” the man croaked. 

“Ten years,” Risha answered. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I finally have everything you told me to find.” 

“Come closer, Risha,” he gestured with one hand, the other wrapped around his ribs like they pained him. “Let me see you.” 

“I’m different now,” Risha said, almost sounding ashamed of it. 

“Not that little girl constantly underfoot. Now you’re my heir… my legacy.” 

This, for Jhonnen, raised more questions than it answered. 

“Captain,” Risha said stiffly. “Meet my father, Nok Drayen. I believe I’ve mentioned him once or twice.” 

That answered one of about a dozen questions still floating around. The biggest of which was why Nok Drayen’s daughter was having to jump through a million hoops to get his loot and that was followed closely by “why does everyone think you’re dead old man?” 

Jhonnen instead cleared his throat. “Makes sense.”

“Sorry I wasn’t completely honest, Jhonnen. I promised father when he entered Doctor Chelah’s hibernation treatment I’d never tell anyone the truth.” 

“And you didn’t.” 

“Trust,” Nok Drayen hissed, “is a vice for the weak. I learned that the hard way. Ten years ago one of my lieutenants deliberately infected me with a disease. It’s deadly, incurable—and eating me alive.” 

“Ouch.” 

“I’ve done everything to stop this disease, but it’s never been enough. Soon the illness will consume my vital organs.” 

“Have you tried the jedi?” Jhonnen asked. “They heal freaky stuff all the time.” 

“The jedi proved… uncooperative. I killed three trying to learn their secrets, but that is not our present concern.” 

Jhonnen stopped himself from pointing out that killing jedi for force secrets when you yourself are not force sensitive seemed… dumb as hell. 

“I lied about my father,” Risha said. “But not his lost fortune. That’s real—and thanks to all those starship upgrades, it’s yours. You have the only starship in the galaxy equipped to travel when the fortune was lost. No One else can reach it.” 

Jhonnen listened, careful to keep his jaw off the floor, as Nok Drayen explained that all his loot was on a derelict starship idly drifting into a black hole. 

This just raised _further_ questions. If his ship was the only one that could make it there, how did the loot get out there in the first place? How did Drayen get free of the starship? Who the fuck thought any of this was a good idea?

He. Was. Nuts. 

And Risha probably wasn’t a whole lot saner. 

But Jhonnen _liked_ Risha. 

Because he was stupid. 

“I’m sorry, did you say _massive black hole_?” Jhonnen blanched.

“Few spacers have seen the Long Shadow and survived,” Nok Drayan said. “They describe it as a vast darkness, slowly consuming the galaxy.”

They probably _actually_ described it as “a fucking black hole don’t go there” but whatever. That wasn’t even how black holes worked. 

“I’ll give you the coordinates to the derelict vessel. You’ll fly into the Long Shadow and board it. Retrieve the vessel’s reliquary and bring it here. Risha will take a single item, the rest is yours.” 

Jhonnen nodded, Risha had said this was personal, not profitable. 

She’d get her fair share regardless. She was on his crew.

“My daughter will stay here. I have things to tell her, and my time grows short.” 

“Be careful out there,” Risha gave him a smile, a genuine one for once, without all the ice. “I’ve gotten used to seeing you.” 

“I wouldn’t be cruel enough to deprive you of my visage,” Jhonnen winked. “Back soon with your box.” 

* * *

“Risha’s pa is _who_? We’re flying into a _what_?” Corso asked when Jhonnen filled him and Bowdaar in on the plan. 

“ _Near_ a black hole,” Jhonnen said, carefully avoiding the word “massive.” “It’ll be _fine_ ,” he hoped he wasn’t lying. “And you get to sit at the helm while Bowdaar and I board to try and find the treasure. Everyone gets home and paid. It’ll be _fine_.” 

Corso did not look convinced. 

Bowdaar _also_ didn’t look convinced but seemed content to keep his complaints to himself. Jhonnen was grateful. He looked at the coordinates Nok had given him and considered turning back. 

But they were close and Risha was counting on him and she was on his crew. She mattered. 

Because he was stupid.

Jhonnen fished the hologram out of his pocket, the picture of him and his mother and thought about how nice it would be to go back to Nar Shaddaa and tell her shrine that he’d found more money than he knew what to do with. To help keep Panwa Muni independent. 

This wasn’t just about him. 

Everyone deserved to get paid. 

Jhonnen punched the coordinates in.

* * *

The Drayen’s were royalty. 

This was actually less surprising than finding out that murderous was a genetic trait (which boded poorly for his burgeoning friendship with Risha) in humans. 

By far the _least_ surprising thing, however, was finding Skavak at his ship with a blaster pointed at his face. “Heya Jhonnen. Bet you’re surprised to see me.” 

“Not really. Confused though, I’ll give you confused.” Jhonnen crossed his arms and silently worried for Corso. 

“See, I’ve always believed if you can’t beat ‘em, join em… and then beat ‘em.” Skavak said, obviously pleased with himself. “So I stowed away back on Nar Shaddaa. All I had to do was wait for you to leave then give that idiot Corso another smack in the back of the head.” 

Well, at least Corso wasn’t dead. Skavak probably intended to leave them to the black hole so he could gloat. 

Jhonnen could work with that. 

“I want to be civil about this. Sure, you’ve made my life miserable—but I don’t hold a grudge. Really.” He almost sounded sincere and it was creepy. 

“That’s very convincing with your blaster pointed at my face.” 

“Bottom line: there’s nothing you have that I can’t steal.”

“Good looks and a moral compass?” Jhonnen ventured, his fingers itched for his blaster handle. 

Skavak snarled. “Enough witty banter time for you too—”

Jhonnen was a quickdraw. He had his blaster out and smoking before Skavak finished his sentence. Skavak hit the ground and Jhonnen holstered his weapon, privately thinking that there was a difference in skill sets that Skavak had not taken into account: Skavak was a con, Jhonnen was a Smuggler. One of these involved, ideally, no blasterfire. He looted the corpse, snorting a little when he found Corso’s blaster, and boarded _The Tick_. 

Corso was passed out on the floor, Jhonnen tucked Torchy under his hand and gave his forehead a pat. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Bowdaar.” 

<< Agreed. >>

* * *

With Skavak dead there was a weight off the general atmosphere of _The Tick_ all the way back to Nar Shaddaa. Corso, while embarrassed about being knocked unconscious again, was indecently ecstatic to have Torchy back. Bowdaar was pleased to be rid of an irritant and Jhonnen was just glad it was over. 

When they touched down on Nar Shaddaa he gave Corso a shopping list of things the ship needed and left Bowdaar in charge of _The Tick_ herself while he went to see Nok and Risha. The whole thing had been a scheme to get back the planet of Dubrillion, usurped from Risha’s great-grandfather, King Arak Drayen. The solitary item Risha was keeping? A crown. 

Pieces clicked into place, the secrecy, her attitude. 

Jhonnen tried very, very hard to be surprised when Nok Drayen ordered Risha to kill him but, alas, the surprise was not forthcoming; men like Nok Drayen didn’t simply give up a fortune. 

“Risha and I bonded,” Jhonnen said, arms crossed across his chest because he didn’t want to kill anyone if he didn’t have to. He just had to hope he wasn’t lying. 

“Emotions are a distraction, Risha.” 

“Father, no,” Risha shook her head. “Jhonnen is a good man. I… care about him.” 

_That_ was a surprise. 

“You… useless child! Spent too many years without my guidance. You’re weak… powerless!” Nok Drayen clawed at his throat, the disease having spread too far and his agitation making it worse. “Everything I’ve done… the blood I’ve spilled… for _nothing!_ This isn’t how it’s supposed to end.” He crumpled and Risha turned away, unable or unwilling to watch the end. 

<< His life signs have ceased. I am sorry. >>

Risha took a breath. “Dispose of my father’s body as he instructed, Doctor Chelah. You’re released from my family’s service.” 

Doctor Chelah carted the corpse off and Risha turned her attention back on to Jhonnen, shaking her head when he opened his mouth to ask if she was alright. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Jhonnen. My father was sick.” 

“Thank you for not shooting me.” Jhonnen smiled.

“After all you’ve done that would have been _highly_ ungrateful,” she smiled back. A small one, but a smile nonetheless. She cleared her throat. “You’re a wealthy man, Jhonnen. That reliquary holds more than family heirlooms. Merchants will be killing each other to buy what you’re selling.” 

“Gruesome,” Jhonnen said. “But profitable.”

“Not sure what I’m suppose to do now—”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jhonnen snorted. “You’ll come with us. I’ve gotten used to having you around, you’re a fucking brilliant mechanic and _you’ll_ need help if you want to retake your throne or whatever.” He winked. “Your highness.” 

Risha tilted her head in consideration. “Alright, Jhonnen. Every captain needs a good first mate.” 

He lifted his brow. 

“Bowdaar won’t want the job and Corso doesn’t know what it takes to run a starship, I do.” 

“You’ve got me there.” 

“Considering the light years we’ve been racking up, I suggest a hyperdrive overhaul and a sublight engine tune-up. Which do you want first?” 

“Hyperdrive, it’s harder to get towed in deep space.” 

“We’ll work out the details when we get back to the ship then,” Risha said. “Ready to hit the hyperlanes?” 

“After a quick stop. You’re free to tag along.” 

* * *

Risha’s eyebrow climbed higher and higher as they reached the Red Light Sector. Jhonnen paid cover for both of them into Panwa Muni and found a table near the back. Zii was on stage but he caught the hand of the waitress and asked her to send Vivex over. 

“Who’s Vivex?” Risha asked, sitting rail straight.

“I met your dad, you can meet my… aunt.” He hedged, never quite sure if Vivex was a friend and aunt or his godmother. He brightened as Vivex reached the table. 

“Who’s the pretty girl, Jhonny?” Vivex asked. 

“Risha, Viv, Viv, Risha.” Jhonnen gestured to one then the other. “I just wanted you to know that I came into some money, rather a lot of it. Give me time to find a fence but I think I can throw enough at you to help build a buffer.” 

Vivex grinned. “That’s my boy.” 

* * *

Back on the ship, Risha studied him carefully. Jhonnen shifted his weight uncomfortably. “What?” 

“I thought you were just another womanizing airhead,” she observed. 

Jhonnen scowled. “Rude.” 

Risha raised both eyebrows, daring him to challenge the conception. Jhonnen laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I can’t pretend that I’m _not_ a womanzing airhead. And a man-izing airhead? Whatever the equivalent is when you do it to a man. But I try to be respectful. Lusty airhead? I don’t fucking know.” 

Risha leaned back against the engine. “So you were raised by your mother?” 

“And a half-dozen strippers, yeah. Vivex was her best friend. Viv started managing Panwa Muni when I was a teenager. Mom liked dancing more than paperwork.” He tilted his head. “Not what you expected?” 

Risha gave him a small smile and shook her head. “No, flyboy, not what I expected at all.” 


	9. Bait-n-Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen is offered a job and things go pear-shaped.

Jhonnen’s share spent faster than he figured it would have, but he spent it on things that mattered. Starship upgrades were expensive and keeping Panwa Muni independent had taken a fair bit of scratch but he felt good about it and he still had enough left over to get to be choosy about the jobs he took. 

Risha settled onto the ship more easily now that her secrets were out in the open. She dominated the engine room with an iron fist that only Jhonnen could question, and he usually didn’t. She _was_ the better mechanic, even if she didn’t have the love for the ship he did. 

No one loved _The Tick_ the way he did. 

Months passed and what started as a ragtag assembly felt more like actual roommates, bickering about food and watching vids in the evenings. They worked, they relaxed. 

The holocall came while Jhonnen was watching Corso teach Bowdaar how to play sabacc. He was surprised to see Darmas Pollaran, the information broker who had helped him with the initial steps of what he lovingly considered “the Skavak mess.” 

“Jhonnen! I heard about your fantastic success with Nok Drayen. I always thought his fortune was a myth.” 

“What can I do for you, Darmas?” 

“I’m touched you remember me.” Darmas said. “You’ve come so far since then… with very little to work with.” 

_That_ felt like an insult but Jhonnen kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t necessarily _untrue_. 

“I have a business proposition for you. But I’d rather discuss it face-to-face. Come to Port Nowhere, Jhonnen, we’ll talk there.” 

The comm clicked off and Jhonnen looked to the doorway where Risha was waiting. “Seems like a safe location,” she said, “but we need to be careful. The Imperials are getting more gutsy.” She shook her head. “There’s nowhere in Republic space that’s safe anymore.” 

“If you wanted _safe_ you picked the wrong man.” 

“If I wanted safe _or_ presentable at social functions not held in smoke-filled cantinas—”

“Hey, I _like_ smoke-filled cantinas,” Corso kicked in. 

“That’s why I’m the man of your dreams, Corso,” Jhonnen winked at him. “Right, baby?” 

Corso rolled his eyes and returned his muttering attention back to the cards. 

“I’m serious,” Risha’s frown deepened. “I picked up a signature while we were on Nar Shaddaa that looked like the Voidwolf.” 

“Is he on our ass or just in the same system?” Jhonnen asked. 

Risha shook her head. “He only dropped out of hyperspace for a second, so it’s hard to tell, but you _know_ how bad this guy can be, I trust.” 

“I grew up on Nar Shaddaa,” Jhonnen reminded her. “I’ve heard the horror stories. Former slaver, all around bastard.” 

“Dreams of handing the underworld, wrapped and ribboned, to the Empire,” Risha said. 

Corso started to deal again. “Then let’s hit Port Nowhere fast and get out of his way.” 

* * *

Port Nowhere was a smuggler’s dream. At its core it was just a floating Cantina that offered real freedom and a place for less-than-legitimate business opportunities. Jhonnen made a note to see what other work they could pick up after their meeting with Darmas, it would have been a shame to waste the opportunity. 

They docked and Jhonnen left Corso—because maybe Port Nowhere should come later in his criminal education—and Bowdaar—because muscle—in charge of _The Tick_. Risha and her long blaster rifle accompanied him to go find Darmas.

“Careful with Darmas,” Corso tried to warn Risha. “He’s a ladies man.” 

Jhonnen rolled his eyes.

“That’s sweet Corso,” Risha sneered. “I’ll be sure to tell him you miss him.” 

Jhonnen sighed. “You walked right into that, Corso. We’ll be back soon.” 

He and Risha left the and headed into the Cantina itself. They were stopped by a human male by the bar who cooed at him, all flattery and offers to buy him a drink. 

It felt forced, grated on Jhonnen’s nerves. “Sorry, but I’ve got a date I’m late for.” 

“Well, what about this?” the human produced his holocomm and a chagrian came into view. 

“So, Jhonnen, is it?” 

Jhonnen’s stomach dropped into his boots. 

“I’ve been hearing your name for a while now. Almost as long as you’ve been hearing mine. Rogun. They call me _The Butcher_.” Rogun made no pretense of a smile. “You lost a blaster shipment of mine some time back and I don’t remember getting an apology. How about it, you know how to say _I’m sorry_?”

“Unfortunately, the man responsible for that is rotting on a derelict freighter. But I’m sure he’d apologize for that if he could.” 

“Oh there’s _plenty_ of blame to go around,” Rogun said. “I’m generous that way. No one steals from me and lives. And don’t even think of trying to run away, my men have your hangar locked down tight.” 

Which begged the question of how they knew he was coming. 

Questions for later. Jhonnen’s hand strayed near his hip, Risha took a step back so they were shoulder to shoulder, almost back to back. 

“Exciting,” Jhonnen said, trying desperately to think of a way out of this mess. 

“Are you _nuts_ ,” Risha hissed. “There’s like a hundred guys in here.” 

“All right,” Rogun held his arms up. “Open season. A hundred thousand—” Jhonnen shot the holo and then the man holding it. 

The bar erupted into violence. Jhonnen and Risha darted for the bar to use it as cover, taking turns firing. “Only one of you can win,” Jhonnen shouted. “Unless you want to share.” He tossed a grenade over the bar and made a mental note to start carrying more than a few at a time. 

When the smoke cleared, somehow both Jhonnen and Risha were singed but breathing. He gave her what he hoped was a confident smile. “See, all under control.” 

“You’re a lunatic.” 

“But a breathing one.” He shook his head to clear some of the ringing. “Lets see what the fuck Darmas wants and get the ass out of here.” 

“How did Rogun even know we were coming here?” 

“That is a very good question,” Jhonnen agreed. “And one I would desperately like an answer too.” He limped deeper into the cantina, blaster out. 

It took more blasterfire than Jhonnen liked in his day-to-day business, but eventually he and Risha found Darmas and the answer to the question of how Rogun had known they were coming: it was a trap. Darmas was in a cell alongside a human woman. 

“Captain!” Darmas said as soon as he was free. “Good thing you’re prompt, or I’d be a dead man. The second we got off the link, Rogun’s men showed up.” 

So maybe Rogun’s appearance was still a mystery. 

“We don’t often see this sort of thing in the Galactic Senate. You were impressive, Captain—almost worth getting kidnapped for.” 

The appearance of a senator raised _more_ questions. Jhonnen looked to Darmas for answers. 

“This is Senator Bevera Dodonna. I work with her now.” Darmas rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Rah-rah, hail the Republic—etcetera, etcetera.” 

“What’s that got to do with Rogun The Butcher?” _Or me, for that matter_. 

“Rogun The Butcher is an Imperial lackey—a puppet on a string for Imperial High Command.” Senator Dodonna said. “There’s an Imperial fleet waiting out there. Rogun’s men were going to deliver us to the Imperials.” 

Jhonnen blinked. It felt… convenient. That the gangster with a vendetta against him had turned up to kidnap a man who’d just called him with a job in order to sell said man to the Imperials. 

It wasn’t impossible, certainly. But it did feel convenient. 

“So what’s that got to do with me?”

“The Republic is looking for men and women of action,” Senator Dodonna said, settling in for a spiel. Jhonnen mostly tuned her out, catching the words _privateer_ and _commission_ and piecing it together from there. 

“I’m not a Republic Citizen.” Jhonnen pointed out. 

“Really, _Mr. Leaveson_ ,” Dodonna’s smile turned cruel. “It’s a straightforward deal, we give you targets, cargo, the job we need done and all the support we can covertly provide. In return, we look the other way of your… indiscretions.” 

He should have left her in the cage. He shot a betrayed look to Darmas. 

“Unless you’d prefer to be a Republic fugitive. That would _certainly_ cut into your profit margin wouldn’t it?” 

_Son. Of. A. Bitch._

“To say nothing of your associates who would be blemished by association.” 

_Son. Of. A. Motherfucking. Half-Eaten. Hutt. Carcass._

“Fine,” Jhonnen snorted. “But I don’t work for free.” 

“You’ll be well-compensated,” Dodonna assured him. “It’s a carrot and stick operation.”

_I’ll show you a carrot and stick operation,_ Jhonnen thought. _Wait. What?_

“Where am I going first?” Jhonnen asked, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling like a petulant child. 

“Our top target right now is Balmorra. One of the most likely hotspots for open war to be declared.” 

“What, as opposed to the cold war we’re all currently trying to dodge?” He was going to kill Darmas. He’d known the starship help wasn’t free. 

Jhonnen half-listened, bored and angry, to the start of the briefing and was taken completely off guard when the klaxon’s started and a voice from the speaker shouted, “Empire! Empire! Imperial fleet de-cloaked, port side! No! Starboard—they’re all around us! It’s the Voidwolf!” 

Darmas looked to the senator. “Get to your ship, get back to Coruscant.” He turned to Jhonnen. “You too, get out of here! I’ll try and jump this tub before they board us!” 

It was a stupid plan and Darmas should have known that. 

But, that was Darmas’s choice and Jhonnen, still angry about being trapped, was willing to let him make it. 

* * *

Something wasn’t sitting right. Jhonnen curled up on his thin mattress, his room having been rearranged so he was even closer to the hum of the engine. The new one ran quieter and he needed it to sleep. 

Rogun might have been an Imperial lackey, sure, there were plenty of lackeys in the underworld and about a third of them were Imperial. But it felt all together strange that this job offer had collided with Rogun’s little personal vendetta. 

Maybe that was why Darmas and Dodonna had picked _him._ He certainly held no love for the Republic, they were just a little easier to work around than the Empire. He hated the Empire, but that was largely generational, his mother’s hatred for a society that looked down on her because she was red sith and force-blind. Hatred because she _could_ have been noble and she wasn’t. Jhonnen had just wanted to steer clear of the whole mess. Work, live free, look after his tiny, stupid crew. 

He rolled onto his other side. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut. But without proof, he couldn’t act on it. And he _really_ didn’t need a Senator up his ass while he was dealing with Rogun’s bullshit. 

What choice did he have? 

* * *

One of the upsides to having a “First Mate” was letting Risha fill Corso and Bowdaar in on banthashit while Jhonnen hung out in the fresher and tried to think of a way out of this mess. He wasted half an hour and came up with nothing. They were good and truly stuck. 

Toweling off his hair, Jhonnen made his way to the lounge where everyone was waiting. He looked from face to face to face and wondered why anyone thought it was a good idea to put him in charge of anything. “Risha told you what’s up?” 

Corso nodded, Bowdaar warbled. 

“Just because I’m shacked to this doesn’t mean anyone else has to be. I can drop people where they wanna go.” 

“Are you kidding, Jhonnen?” Corso actually managed to scoff and Jhonnen was weirdly a little bit proud of him for it. “Sergeant Boom-Boom’s been aching for some more action against the Imperials.” 

“Sergeant—” Jhonnen stopped himself before he could finish asking. He probably didn’t want to know. “Okay then, Bowdaar, you in?” 

<< I will not abandon you now. >>

“Awesome. I guess we’re heading to Balmorra. Because giant murder-insects are _fun_.” 

* * *

Jhonnen lost a round of sabacc before bed and transferred fifteen credits to Bowdaar’s account as payment, reflecting that having the extra scratch was nice. Corso had passed out early, sweet visions of named blasters dancing in his head and Torchy probably under his pillow. 

Jhonnen leaned over the bar and froze when Bowdaar put his massive paw over his head. 

<< You are worried. >>

Jhonnen gave a very small nod. “I’m usually worried. I just have something more concrete to worry about.” 

<< Do you want to talk about it? >>

Jhonnen shifted out from under Bowdaar’s paw and looked up at the wookiee. He managed a smile. “This mess stinks. Best I can figure I got tapped because I impressed the wrong people. I never wanted notoriety, just my freedom and if I don’t do it, they could find a way to fuck up Vivex and the club.” Jhonnen tucked his arms around himself, chin on the counter. “Viv’s the closest thing I’ve got to a family any more. Mom’ll kill me if anything happens to her.” 

He closed his eyes. _Would_ kill him. Not will. 

She was dead. 

It had been months since Isixia had died. She would have a way out of this. She had a way out of everything. Kidnap the Senator’s family if you have to, Jhonnen, just don’t let anyone tie you in place. 

The tears started then. Jhonnen reached up to swipe them away. “Suh-sorry, Big Guy,” Jhonnen hiccuped. “Guh-guess it’s catching uh-up with me.” He sniffled but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I just. . . I got so buh-busy. I forgot to grieve.” 

No, he’d _distracted_ himself. 

<< Tell me about your mother. >> Bowdaar said. His hand settled atop Jhonnen’s head in solidarity. 

Jhonnen snagged a rag and blew his nose. “Isixia, my, my mom, was the cleverest woman in the galaxy,” he said. “And she saved my life when I was little, at great personal cost to herself.” 

He told Bowdaar about his mother’s youth on Dromund Kaas, how she dazzled a sith lord and became a kept woman. How she’d gotten pregnant and when they figured out that Jhonnen wasn’t Force Sensitive she’d fled to the Hutts with him in her arms so his father couldn’t wipe out the stain on his family’s honor. How life under the hutts was hard and Isixia might have blamed it on him but that didn’t stop her from loving him. 

<< She told you she blamed you? >> Bowdaar interrupted. 

Jhonnen shrugged, the tears having abated. “She only minced words if she wanted something. I respect that kind of honesty.” 

He told Bowdaar about his first smuggling gig, a local crime boss had taken advantage of the fact that, even on Nar Shaddaa, security officers didn’t usually want to rough up kids. He actually laughed when he described how proud Isixia had been, how terrified she had been, how pleased when he took her out for a cheap meal because as a child he didn’t get paid his worth. 

<< You loved her. >> Bowdaar observed. << I would have protected her all her life. >>

“She would have liked that, Big Guy. And she’d have tied Corso up in knots—possibly literally.” He smiled. “No idea about Rish. But I—I like to think they’d have gotten along.” 

<< Feeling better? >> Bowdaar asked. 

Jhonnen nodded. “Thanks, Big Guy. Sorry about the waterworks.” 

<< There is no shame in weeping over the dead. >>

“You’re right,” Jhonnen said. “But some people get weird about it. 

<< They get less weird if you rip their arms off. >>

Jhonnen laughed and Bowdaar smiled. “You’re right again.” 


	10. Going Spar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen arrives on Balmorra to try and liberate "Project Nebula"

Jhonnen crossed his arms over his chest as the holoterminal flickered to life and Darmas Pollaran—Mr. Bait-and-Switch himself—popped into view. “Captain! Who’d have thought when we met on Coruscant that I’ve be calling you today with a _formal_ Republic briefing.” 

Jhonnen pursed his lips, still soundly unhappy with the whole deal. 

“Don’t be sour,” Darmas chided. “Senator Dodonna is eager to see how you handle your first mission. You see, Balmorra was once the Republic’s main supplier of everything military. Until the Empire moved in and the Senate voted to turn tail and run. Which left the Empire holding _everything_ the Republic had commissioned for _Project Nebula._ ” 

Jhonnen sighed and rolled his pale grey eyes. “What’s _Project Nebula_?” He asked in a dull, bored voice. 

“It was _supposed_ to be the Republic’s answer to Imperial aggression. Top-of-the-line prototype capital ships, ion cannons, cluster missiles and a few experimental goodies. And now the Empire is sending the complete Nebula munitions shipment to their front lines. The Republic’s got no chance.” 

Jhonnen waited for him to continue. He gestured for Darmas to continue with his wrist. He groaned like a petulant child. “What do you want _me_ to do about it?” 

“ _Senator Dodonna_ ,” Darmas clarified, “wants you to work with the Balmorran resistance. They can help you track down the Nebula shipment then find a way to divert it to Palliser Station, a Republic base near Corellia.” 

“This really sounds like a job for Spec Ops.” Jhonnen pointed out. “How the fuck am I supposed to pull this off?” 

“The Senator's letting _you_ figure out the ‘how’. Which gives you an interesting opportunity.” Darmas’s smile turned wicked. “The Republic wants to get the minitions away from the Empire—however, not enough to pay market value.” 

Jhonnen stared at him. 

“A _smart_ operator might sell the prototypes back to them piece-by-piece . . . not that I’m the one who told you.” 

Jhonnen wondered if it was possible to set a man on fire with his mind from across deep space. Probably a Jedi could do it. Or a Sith. 

_Pissing off the Republic_ was the ass-last thing he wanted to do while he was hip-deep in their banthashit.

“Your contact on the ground is one of the rebels, Numen Brock,.” Darmas folded his hands in front of him. “Check in with him when you land in Bugtown. Hats off if you can do this thing, Captain.” 

Jhonnen turned the holo off and flopped into a seat. 

“Rish?” 

“Yes, _Captain_?” 

“Care to accompany me through the colicoid infested wastes of a wartorn planet?” He looked up over the back of the seat at her and smiled. “I’ll be extra charming.” 

“I’m not sure how much more _charming_ I can stand,” she told him, completely deadpan. “We’ll leave Bowdaar in charge of the ship and resupplying, no one wants to risk cheating a wookiee. Corso can help out the rebels, put his puppy-like enthusiasm to work and maybe make a few friends with the locals.” 

Jhonnen gave her an honest smile. “You’re brilliant, you know that?” 

“I did actually, but it’s nice to hear. You ready to go or you wanna sulk for another five minutes.” 

Jhonnen rolled to standing. “I would love to spend the time sulking, but that stupid fucking munitions shipment isn’t going to liberate itself.” He sighed. “What a world _that_ would be.” 

He popped into the crew quarters and caught Corso by surprise. “Hey.” He grinned. 

“Jhonnen?” 

“Wanna shoot some Imps?” 

* * *

Jhonnen acutely remembered having described in vague detail his discomfort with Fort Garnik to Corso. _Bugtown_ was no better. There were still military types roaming around but instead of Fort Garnik’s walls, Bugtown was open and vulnerable to attack from the colicoids. 

And attack the colicoids did. Jhonnen was amazed there was enough of a perimeter for him, Risha and Corso to get to the command center unmauled. 

And it was a pretty near thing. 

Corso headed off to make himself useful while Risha and Jhonnen went in search of Numen, their contact on the ground. 

“It’s dark and dirty,” Risha remarked as they made their way inside, “but not the worst Republic base I’ve visited.” 

“Oh? What’s the worst?” 

“Rodia,” Risha wrinkled her nose as she said it. “Let’s just say if we end up there, you can take Corso out for a stroll.” 

Jhonnen chuckled. “Noted.”

Numen was a relaxed twi’lek with an easy smile that Jhonnen flat out didn’t trust. But maybe that was his general irritation with his situation talking. “You’re not what I expected.” 

“I get that a lot,” Jhonnen shrugged, all too aware of the eyes on the back of his neck and the itchy blaster fingers in the the room. “I’m just too pretty for most corners of the galaxy.” 

Numen snorted a laugh. “So, what brings you to Balmorra, Captain? Other than the fat Republic payoff?” 

Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “Heard the weather was nice. Payoff helps.” 

“The Republic is so busy hiding behind treaties, they’re handing out credits like candy. I mean, folks like you and me can make a killing.” 

“Yep.” Jhonnen fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Credits make the galaxy go ‘round.” And he had _plenty_ of them after the Nok Drayen job. He didn’t need this shit. “Apparently there’re some horrific weapons of death and whatnot that the Republic doesn’t want the Imps getting their hands on.” 

“The _same_ Republic who walked out on us when the Voidwolf sent his death squads?” Numen’s smile sharpened to a razor’s edge. “Doesn’t exactly give them the moral high ground.” He leaned away, arms over his chest. “Though, Republic intel did point us to the Nebula shipment. Came through an SIS double agent. Code name: Golden.” 

Jhonnen’s shoulders slumped this was hard enough without spy games. 

“He’s given us some of our best information,” Numen continued. “Without him, we wouldn’t have taken Bugtown.” 

Jhonnen straightened and rolled his shoulders back. “Alright, just tell me what you need _me_ to do.” 

“We’ve got a payment due. In return, he says he’s got a location for the Nebula shipment. I need _you_ to make the drop-off.” 

“This is going to be more complicated than I want it to be,” Jhonnen observed, and then listened as Numen explained the series of false dead-drops he would have to make first and then gave the location of the _actual_ dead drop. 

Jhonnen hated dead drops. They were easy places to ambush if they were discovered or if someone was playing dirty. 

And someone was usually playing dirty. 

Sometimes it was him. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “Prepare to be impressed.” 

“You don’t seem all that enthusiastic, Captain,” Numen said with a small nod. Jhonnen gave him a mirthless smile and a tiny laugh in response. 

“He didn’t sleep much last night,” Risha said by way of provided a cover. “He’ll be back to himself after I pour some caf in him. C’mon Captain, we’ve got work to do.” 

* * *

They picked off droids and delivered the fake packages as quickly as they could before making their way into the Okara Droid Factory. The upper levels were full of lethally malfunctioning droids and the lower levels were full of Imperials (also lethal). Jhonnen and Risha crept down to the dead drop and just as Jhonnen was setting the payment down, Risha cleared her throat and indicated the door with her chin. 

“This is Imperial Proper—” 

Jhonnen turned to face the Imperial officer and caused a hiccup in the man’s prepared speech. 

The hiccup didn’t last long. 

“Imperial Property! Freeze.” 

“If I listen does that mean you’re not going to shoot us?” Jhonnen’s hand twitched near his blaster. “Because, I’ll be honest, that seems out of character.”

The Officer snarled and gestured for the mercenary—a tall, broad zabrak woman—to take point. “Spar, you take point here. Try to take them alive.” 

She locked eyes with Jhonnen. “You didn’t say please.” 

And she promptly knocked the Officer to his death. 

Jhonnen opened and then shut his mouth.

“You wanna take out the rest of these idiots?” the mercenary woman said. “We need to talk privately.” 

“Risha, the thing!” Jhonnen pulled his blaster and killed one of the Imps on Spar’s left while Risha secured the data they’d come for. 

The zabrak mercenary leaned back against the railing as the fighting stopped and eyed Jhonnen warily. “I’ll let you take credit here. There aren’t bodies I need on my name.” 

“Can I _get_ a name?” Jhonnen asked, not particularly feeling that he needed bodies on his name _either._

“I am a Mandalorian, but that does not concern you. I want access to Moff Tyrak, and I’ll pay any price you name to get it.” 

Jhonnen stared at her blankly, opened his mouth to point out that that wasn’t a name. He closed his mouth. He opened it again to ask who Moff Tyrak was. He closed his mouth. 

Risha elbowed him in the side.

“You…have no idea what I’m talking about. Do you?” 

Jhonnen shook his head. 

Spar sighed. “That’s who your delivery is for: Imperial Moff Tyrak. Commander of the Sixty-third Armored Infantry Division.” She folded her arms across her chest, huge and imposing in her armor. “I want to know why.” 

“Why?” Jhonnen cocked his head curiously to the side. “I mean what’s your angle I’m not asking for clarifica—” 

“My reasons are my own. I will give the Republic all I know of the Empire’s places here—as payment for Moff Tyrak.” 

“I’m sure _someone_ ’ll like that,” Jhonnen hedged. “I’m not really with the Resistance. I could set you up with someone who is though, probably.” 

She had just sort of saved his life. 

“See what you can find out,” Spar said. She pointed her wrist at one of the upper pillars and fired a grappling hook. “I’ll contact you later.” 

Jhonnen opened his mouth to ask _how_ , but she was gone. He sighed and looked at Risha, who seemed utterly unimpressed. “That’s going to be trouble,” he observed. 

“Probably. Come on, let’s get back.” 

* * *

Corso was in the cantina when Risha and Jhonnen returned. He was in conversation with a couple of the resistance fighters, grinning like a tiny sun. It was enough that Jhonnen wondered if this might be where Corso got off _The Tick_ and made some new friends. 

Fighting for a downtrodden planet was exactly the sort of white knight nonsense Corso went for. 

And maybe one of the resistance ladies would beat some common sense into him more kindly and more literally than Risha had been. 

Jhonnen and Risha left Corso to his conversation and settled at a back booth for lunch. 

“Bet you were surprised to see I can hold my own in a fight. I’m pretty good with a blaster.” Risha leaned her elbows on the table. “My father taught me to shoot when I was four years old.” 

“And here I was hoping we’d get a romantic training montage wherein you fall for my charm and blaster skills and how patient an instructor I am.” 

“Maybe my father spared you a visit to the med-center, teaching someone to shoot can be messy.” Risha straightened, putting the wall back up. “Father wanted me self-sufficient as early as possible, said I’d need it to survive. He was right.” 

“So you were on your own for _ten years_ ,” Jhonnen asked. “How’d you even manage? You would have had to have been what, a teenager?” 

“I was eleven,” Risha answered. She looked like she was actually going to answer the rest of the question when they were interrupted. A protocol droid got Jhonnen’s attention with a high, panicked voice. “After you left, Master Numen went to meet with some resistance fighters, and he never made it back.” 

“Shit.” Jhonnen groaned. “What’s happened?” 

“I intercepted an Imperial data stream. A foot patrol caught Master Numen and the others. They’re taking them to Camp Vigil!”

“What’s Camp Vigil?” Jhonnen suspected he didn’t want the answer. 

“Balmorra’s most notorious prison camp—set up by the Voidwolf himself.” 

“Shit.” The Voidwolf _kept coming up_. That had to be some sort of omen. 

“Master Numen has a pair of field disrupters he intended to use to break our people out. If you were to smuggle them to him now, he could stage a massive prison break from the inside. The Empire will be humiliated.” 

“Sounds like a plan then, if I can get inside.” 

“I have a plan for that, Sir.” 

Jhonnen listened as the droid explained that Numen had built up a network of guards with weaknesses for stims and other stimuli. If Jhonnen made the deliveries instead, he could gain access to the camp, possibly even the prison, and get the disrupters to Numen. 

Smuggling illicit goods was something Jhonnen was good at.

* * *

The deliveries went off without a hitch and the kid they had watching the front gate was like putty in Jhonnen’s hands. A few well-placed lies about how Numen was going to give up his buyers and Jhonnen had access and the poor kid had scampered off to lie low. 

Jhonnen allowed himself one small, smug smile before boarding the elevator that would take him into Camp Vigil proper.

Inside, things got complicated. Prisons, by design, are built to keep people from wandering through them unchecked and Jhonnen found himself having to dismantle sensor droids every few meters while hiding from patrols. 

He froze when metal touched his temple and turned slowly, eyes catching on blue durasteel legs that he followed up over a large breastplate and landed on the dark pink skin and black tattoos of Spar, the mandalorian from earlier.

“Keep your head down. Security’s tight inside the camp,” the blaster withdrew and Jhonnen remembered how breathing worked. 

“Hello to you too.” 

“I’ve scouted the cells here,” Spar said, hauling him back in to the cranny she’d taken cover in. Risha squished in beside them. “Security uses a two-man guard team as a precaution against corruption. Neither one of us will be able to get in alone.” 

“Okay. Cool. What are _you_ doing here?” Jhonnen asked. 

“One of my clan members is imprisoned here. I’m going to free him.” Spar pulled away and peered back down the hallway, her blaster out. “Every patrol has an access code for one of two terminals needed to enter the prison. You take out the patrols here and get their code. I’ll get the other and meet you at the terminal.” She left without waiting for him to agree. 

Jhonnen slumped against the wall and gave Risha a helpless look and a tiny shake of the head. “I know she’s not wrong but this is ridiculous,” he whisper-hissed. 

“This whole job’s ridiculous.” Risha agreed, “Let’s get it over with.” 

What had been a matter of sneaking around turned into a couple of minutes of thermals detonators and blaster fire but before long Jhonnen had the access code he needed. He headed for the security terminal, Risha watching his back, and looked around for Spar. 

She gave him an acknowledging head tilt. “Now we need to enter the codes simultaneously into both terminals. When we’re in, meet me at cell 665. My clan brother is there. Help me free him, and I’ll assist you with whatever you need.” 

There was an ache in her voice, a longing that reminded Jhonnen of himself when he’d first learned that Kira was gone. Fear, anger, desperation and melancholy all rolled up in one note of hoping the other person was okay. 

Of course, the situations were completely different. Kira and he had stopped talking before she left and Spar’s clan brother was imprisoned. 

It reminded him, however. 

“Can I get that name, finally?” Jhonnen asked, having already made up his mind to help her. 

“Akaavi Spar.” She looked at the doors. “We must go quickly, the codes change often.” She took off like a shot, Jhonnen trying to keep up. The two guards in her way went down fast and she kept going. 

“She’s good,” Jhonnen said to Risha at a jog, “I’ll give her that.” 

“It’s trouble. Let’s find Numen and get out of here.”

“Who the hell are you, old man?” Akaavi’s voice carried. She stood in front of cell 665, staring at an old twi’lek man who Jhonnen could guess wasn’t her clan brother. “What happened to the Mandalorian who was supposed to be in this cell?” 

“What?” The Twi’lek shook his head. “He was executed this morning.” 

Jhonnen instinctively reached for Akaavi as her world was rocked beneath her feet. Her eyes went wide and wet and her lips moved to frame the word, “Executed” but she couldn’t seem to breathe life into it. She hung and shook her head. “I have no clan now. He was the last.” She turned to look at Jhonnen and her eyes sharpened with fury. “You do what you need to; I owe you that much. But anyone you want out of here better be gone in the next five minutes.” She short the power console to the Twi’lek’s cage and he took off running. “Because I am going to _destroy_ this place.” 

Jhonnen darted away from her and through the prison cells until he found Numen. He gave a panicked smile, brow lifting to widen his eyes. “We gotta go, this place is going to blow.” 

He watched from the corner of his eye as Akaavi produced a bomb. 

“How’d you get in here? How’d you even know to come did Sixer—”

“Yeah,” Jhonnen interrupted him. “Your droid sent me.” 

“I swear, he’s the best friend I’ve got.” He took the disrupter as Jhonnen tossed it to him and broke open his cell. “You take the other one and free as many as you can, I’ll worry about getting everyone back to base.” 

The field disrupters made getting everyone out quick and easy, they were simple to handle tools that meant Jhonnen didn’t have to waste time slicing individual terminals. 

Every now and then he caught a glimpse of Akaavi as she set another bomb and he had to wonder where she was keeping them and how many she had. 

It wouldn’t matter in a minute. 

Jhonnen and Risha darted after the last prisoner for the emergency evacuation elevator and caught it as the world rocked. Debris caught Jhonnen in the legs and a rock smacked him in the head but they were both alive and, largely, uninjured as they made their way to Troida to check in on Numen. 

Jhonnen just had to hope that Akaavi had made it out in time, that her grief and fury hadn’t caused her to throw her _own_ life away.

She was a crazy mandalorian, but not all together a bad sort from what he could tell. 

* * *

They didn’t hear from Numen until the next morning, but he was in high spirits as he handed over the information they needed to breach the research base where Project Nebula was being stored. 

Knowing that “Golden” was an Imperial Moff didn’t really instill Jhonnen with any confidence that this whole mess was worth it, but he also didn’t have much of a choice. He listened to the plan, grateful that Akaavi’s bomb-riddled tempertanturm had been good for something other than troop morale: the research base was empty save for the packs of killer war droids. 

Packs of them. 

Jhonnen groaned to himself. Droids were hard to sneak around and stood up to more than a few blasterbolts. 

“Wanna tag out?” Jhonnen asked Risha. “I can cart Corso around.” 

Her laugh wasn’t quite _musical_ , but it was warm and pleasant to hear. “I’m not that mean. He seemed like he was having a good time.” 

“Mean to him or mean to me?” Jhonnen asked. 

“Take your pick really.”

They borrowed a resistance speeder and Jhonnen’s pulse sped up against his will as Risha curled her arms around his hips, thumbs hooking into his belt loops. “See,” he said, brushing it aside with humor, “Corso never wants to cuddle.” 

“You two should have a long talk about your relationship.” 

“I know, right? I can’t even get him to use me for my body.” Jhonnen grinned at her from over his shoulder and rocketed off towards the research station. 

* * *

“Are you the Republic Agent?” said a very tall, very round human male in an Imperial uniform as Jhonnen lowered the force field that protected the Nebula Shipment. “I must be extracted at once.” 

Jhonnen blinked at him. 

“I am Moff Tyrak. My cover is blown. I require an armed escort to Republic territory and an immediate flight off-planet.” 

Jhonnen looked around the room and saw nothing large enough to be a munitions shipment. He narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you say the Nebula shipment was here?” 

“Well, I couldn’t risk the Republic _abandoning_ me, could I?” The Moff said, clearly offended. “How was I supposed to know Imperial Intelligence would start asking where I got my custom landspeeders? That’s _my_ private property!”

He ranted for a moment while Jhonnen continued to look around the room, hoping to some higher power that the shipment was present. He looked back at the Moff. “Where _is_ the Nebula shipment?” 

“The Republic promised if I ever got caught, they’d extract me and I would retire on the gold beaches of Corellia. With full immunity!” 

Jhonnen stared at him, once again testing the possibility of setting someone on fire with sheer irritation. 

Maybe Risha would have better luck. 

Moff Tyrak produced his holo and summoned Numen in his palm. “Make this peon stop asking questions and do as he’s told!” 

Numen sighed. “Oh no.” 

“We’ve been fucked,” Jhonnen said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Mr. Reliable here told an eensy-weensy lie to save his own hide.” 

“Did you think I’d let them kill me over a few—”

“The _deal_ was for you to get us the Nebula shipment, Tyrak,” interrupted Numen. “You go with the captain and get those prototypes to Palliser Station or all bets are off.” 

“Please don’t send him with me.” 

“You need to work _together_ ,” Numen said enthusiastically. “He can guide you and provide the security codes to divert the shipment.” 

“I was fleeing for my life!” Tyrak objected. “Did you really expect me to—fine. I’ll check my datapad—” he descended into unhappy muttering for a moment and then. “It leaves from the Balmorran Arms Factory ship depot. Today.” 

“Huttfucking Son of a—we gotta haul jets.” 

“According to the communiques we’ve tapped, the Nebula shipment is going on droid-piloted tugs.” The miniature Numen tapped his tiny datapad. “So if you can launch them before that ‘fleet escort’ shows up, you should be able to reprogram the droid pilots to fly anywhere.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Now that I know where I’m going, I really don’t need him,” he indicated the Moff with one annoyed finger, “tagging along.” 

“Whatever you think of him, he’s got inside knowledge we can’t replicate.” 

Jhonnen was less than convinced of _that_ , seeing as Moff Tyrak had said his assistant had done most of the work. He couldn’t really argue with Numen, however, not when it was Numen’s planet.

The sound off boots interrupted his train of though and he spun, weapon leveled at a Duros with a large rifle. He held up one hand. << Don’t shoot—I’m with Numen. My squad is securing this location. We’ll babysit the Moff so you can move around freely. >>

Jhonnen lifted his blaster away from the man’s face. 

<< Let’s take different routes to the Arms Factory. Traveling separately will attract less attention. >>

“We’d better stick Tyrack in disguise,” Numen said, his mouth cracking open into a somewhat cruel smile. “Probably as a servant.” 

“A _servant!_ ” Tyrack objected. 

“Suck it up, Princess,” Risha snapped.

Jhonnen snorted with the effort of not laughing. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” Jhonnen fought not to chuckle. “Let’s just go—” he dropped his voice, “— _your highness._ ” 

* * *

 

Risha and Jhonnen had a surprisingly easy time sneaking in once they worked out the guard pattern. Risha shot an Imp and Jhonnen hid the body behind a box. Advance, shoot, hide a body, advance. It was slow going, but it beat alerting the whole factory to their presence.

They reached the meeting point and found Tyrak, alone. Jhonnen gave him a skeptical look. 

“You’re here! I thought you’d abandoned me!” Moff Tyrak announced, a little more loudly than Jhonnen would have prefered, given the delicacy of their situation. “Those incompetent soldiers you left me with are all dead! _I_ suggested a short-cut past Imperial barracks. And they had the gall to blame _me! Me_! When they went and got themselves killed, leaving me undefended.” 

Jhonnen’s skepticism sharpened into rage. Carelessness had cost the lives of too many people today. _On top_ of the fact that they were only here because Tyrak had lied in the first place. “Shut up,” Jhonnen hissed. “I fucking mean it. You really think those men died to _inconvenience_ you?”

“Well,” huffed Tyrak, “they certainly didn’t fight like they understood the—”

“Give me the passcodes and stop talking before you cause me to _inconvenience_ myself with your death.” 

They locked Moff Tyrak in a crate for safekeeping and Risha touched Jhonnen’s shoulder briefly. “You alright?” 

“Fine,” he shrugged. “Just annoyed.” 

They got into the ship depot and disposed of the guards as quickly and carefully as they could before Jhonnen reprogrammed the shipment tugs to fly to Palliser station, in accordance with the deal.

“Ooh, a man of honor after all,” Risha teased. 

“I don’t want Dodonna up my ass any more than she already is,” Jhonnen snorted. “Stupid fucking Darmas—” He was cut off by Risha smacking him in the arm and directing his attention to the armed escort Moff Tyrak was with. “ _Fuck_.” 

“Surrender! You are in violation of the laws of the Sith Empire.” 

“Never broken the laws of a place I wasn’t in before,” Jhonnen quipped. 

The Imperial commander looked less than impressed. “Balmorra is a protectorate of the Sith Empire. The word of the Emperor is law.” 

“Neat,” Jhonnen looked past the Commander to the door, wondering if he and Risha could make a break for it. 

“This isn’t my fault!” Insisted Tyrak. “I was being helpful… I was scouting for guards!” 

“It seems you found them,” Risha said dryly. 

“Silence!” Shouted the commander. “Men! Kill them!”

Jhonnen heard something hit the metal floor and then a familiar beeping. He turned, grabbed Risha, and hit the floor as the small thermal detonator went off in the middle of the guards. 

Akaavi fell from the ceiling. “Thank me later.” 

“Shit,” Jhonnen, pulled himself to his feet. “I’ll thank you now if you want.” He pulled his blaster and offed one of the surviving guards. “Maybe later _is_ better.” 

The dust settled and Jhonnen looked at Akaavi. “You keep doing that and I’m going to assume you like me.” 

“I have saved your life,” Akaavi said, completely ignoring his quip. “In return, I _demand_ you turn over Moff Tyrak.” She pointed to Tyrak. “I have hunted this man for five years. Ever since his command saw my entire clan executed as traitors.” She shook her head and roared, “It was a lie! They served the Empire with honor! What did you seek to gain with their deaths?”

Jhonnen looked at Tyrak and tried to see the mastermind Akaavi was hunting. He saw only an incompetent. “Really?” 

“It was _his_ command which authorized the execution,” Akaavi said with full conviction. 

Moff Tyrak stroked his chin. “It’s not really ringing any bells, but my assistant handles most of that sort of paperwork…” 

Akaavi froze, looking lost and desperate. “But… why did you do it? Why conspire against them?” 

“If I get an execution order I always sign it,” Tyrak said with a shrug. “Better the wrong men dead than a traitor left alive.” 

“ _You_ are a traitor,” Jhonnen reminded him. “Remember?” 

“This cannot be him.” Akaavi whirled on Jhonnen. “Where is the _real_ Moff Tyrak? The sadistic Imperial puppet master?” Her eyes were wide, demanding answers, and her mouth was furious, all her sharp teeth calling out for blood and Jhonnen shook his head. 

“It’s a messy galaxy and people die for no fucking reason sometimes.” 

“No. This can’t be. My clan deserves vengeance. They must have their names cleared. The blood of their enemies used to purify their dishonorable deaths…” Akaavi shook her head again. “I demand my blood rights!” 

“If we leave him he’ll die on his own,” Jhonnen observed, trying his best to temper some of her fury. 

“ _That_ is not the Mandalorian way, to leave his punishment to others.” Akaavi produced her weapon. 

Jhonnen sighed. “Hey, far be it from me to stop you.”

She jerked Moff Tyrak into an embrace and fired her blaster into his heart, letting the body drop away. “He did not suffer.” Akaavi looked at the body and then back at Jhonnen. “I am not often at a loss for words, but I had not thought where to go once my search ended. Are you looking for an extra gun?” 

Jhonnen stared at her and then let his shoulders slump. He couldn’t just leave her here, it wasn’t the same as abandoning Corso to a planet he didn’t know, but it would have been almost as cruel. 

_The Tick_ had room and Mandalorians had their code of honor that would keep Akaavi from trying to steal her. 

“Alright,” Jhonnen said, feeling Risha’s eyes on the back of his neck. “I’ll brief you on the rest of the crew while we head back to Bugtown.” 

“I cannot give you my loyalty,” Akaavi told him as she fell into step at his side. “But I will serve you well.” 

“Not wildly comforting, but I’ll take it,” his sighed. “I’ve done dumber for a pretty face in the past.” He looked at Risha as he said it, hoping her attention was ahead of her and not on him. 

Trusting her back on Coruscant had been monumentally stupid, even if it had all worked out. How much worse could trusting Akaavi be?

* * *

“Hey, Corso,” Jhonnen slid into the cantina booth and threw one arm around the back over Corso’s shoulders. “Ready to ship out or do you wanna stay here and fight the good fight?” 

Corso shifted further into the booth, out from under Jhonnen’s arm. “That a serious question, Jhonnen?” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Thrilling heroics might be ever so more your style than my perfectly legitimate business operations.” He tried not to think that, if Corso remained on Balmorra, he might even miss him. “I try not to judge.” 

“I’m happy where I am,” Corso said easily, leaning back into the booth, feeling Jhonnen’s fingers beneath his head, and straightening again. “You’re a weird one, Jhonnen, but you’re my friend.” 

“Awww, I’m touched.” Jhonnen teased, actually legitimately touched. He’d gotten used to Corso over the months since Ord Mantell. 

“If you’re gonna kiss, kiss,” Risha sneered. “If you’re not, we should get back to the ship.” 

Jhonnen puckered up. 

Corso escaped out the otherside of the booth, right into Akaavi. “Hello, who are you?” 

“Akaavi Spar,” Akaavi introduced herself. “I travel with the Captain. I was warned about you.” 

“ _Warned_ ,” Corso looked vaguely offended. “Jhonnen what does she mean _warned_?” 

“You’d have to ask Risha,” Jhonnen shrugged. “I wasn’t really listening.” 

“Not everyone finds the white-knight routine comforting, Corso,” Risha rolled her eyes. “Some of us find it off-putting.” 

“It ain’t a rou—”

“Save it for home,” Jhonnen said over his shoulder as he headed for the shuttle that would take them up to the Orbital station. He looked at Akaavi. “Eventually you learn to either jump in or tune them out.” 

Akaavi’s expression darkened. “I had many clan brothers, I know my way around banter.” 

They piled into and then out of the shuttle, Risha and Corso managing to silently bicker—Risha seemed to be winning—the whole trip. Akaavi sat beside Jhonnen in stern silence, her eyes ever forward and somehow still giving off the impression that she was only looking back. 

He didn’t know much about Mandalorians, but as far as he knew, a clan was a family. And she’d just lost hers. 

Which meant she fit in. Risha had just lost her father, Jhonnen had just lost his mother, Corso’s whole family had been butchered and Bowdaar had been enslaved so long ago that whatever family he might have had once was irrelevant. 

Lost children, the lot of them. Bowdaar was the only one past thirty and as wookiee ages worked he wasn’t far out of his teens. Functionally he was as young as the rest of them.

He wondered how old Akaavi was. 

They reached _The Tick_ ’s airlock and headed inside. “We’re home,” Jhonnen called. “And we have a new crew member.” 

<< Welcome Back. >> Bowdaar warbled loudly, the words bouncing off the walls.

“You have a wookiee?” Akaavi looked surprised. 

“The Wookiee has himself,” Jhonnen corrected. “It’s an important detail. Bunk down more or less wherever you want, just don’t kick anyone out of their spot.” He flopped over into a chair. “There’s plenty of room.” 

As they left the Orbital station Jhonnen righted himself and dialed Darmas on Port Nowhere. He folded his arms across his chest as Darmas came into view, all smiles, and sighed. “It’s done.” 

“I think Senator Dodonna is starting to see the payoff on her investment.” 

_Investment_ , that was certainly one way of looking at it. 

“I heard the Nebula prototypes were well-received,” Darmas continued, “and the loss is causing a bit of a dustup among the Imperials down on Balmorra.” 

“ About that, the people on the ground need some of those prototypes to defend themselves.” 

“I’ll make Senator Dodonna aware of your opinion, but Balmorra is hardly the only target in this war,” Darmas said with the air of a man who would do no such thing simply because he didn’t care. “I _believe_ the Senator is hoping you’ll brave Hoth next.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

Darmas nodded. “I don’t know the full situation—something about a pirate superweapon—but I’m sure Senator Dodonna will brief you when you arrive.” He smiled. “Pack warmly.” 

The holo terminal clicked off and Jhonnen kicked it with his boot. “Jackass.” 


	11. Toxic Plays Loudly In The Background

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen is derailed to Quesh.

“Akaavi, you joining us for breakfast?” Jhonnen asked, knocking and then popping his head into the room she’d claimed for her own. 

Akaavi glared at him. “I will not be with you long. Do not begin to think I am yours. This is a convenient arrangement. That is all.” 

“Ooookay.” Jhonnen blinked. “So is that a _no_ to breakfast? Bowdaar made eggs.” 

“I am not here to make friends or small talk. I need somewhere to bunk while I track my clan’s enemies.” 

_Right, but it was_ your _idea to be here in the first place_ , Jhonnen had the good sense not to say. 

“I will travel with you as long as our interests coincide.” 

“That’s cool and all, but you should also eat. If not with us then on your own. Hell, Risha takes half her meals in the engine room, I just want everyone comfortable.” 

“I have no desire to be comfortable.” 

“I’m getting that,” Jhonnen sighed. “Suit yourself, and let me know if anyone acts like an asshole. They shouldn’t but Risha can be harsh and Corso is…well-intentioned?” 

“They have welcomed me. I did not expect that.” 

“Takes all sorts to make a home, I guess.” Jhonnen thought about the eggs waiting for him on the galley counter. Probably going cold. 

“It was not coincidence I came to you on Balmorra. Your name is famous among bounty hunters for the price both Skavak and Rogun put on you. I wanted to see who was worth so many credits.” 

“Ah, the price of being _popular_.” 

“Greedy men are willing to throw away fortunes on you—but I value more than credits. I would not give this away for a bounty.” 

“Thanks, Akaavi,” Jhonnen said, and gave her a warm and affectionate smile. “You should also have breakfast.” 

He padded back to the galley in his socks and found that Bowdaar had overturned a pot atop his plate to keep it warm. His lip wobbled with appreciation. “You’re the greatest.” He grinned. “Where’d you even learn to cook?” 

<< On Kashyyyk from my father, >> Bowdaar answered. << As a slave I was never given the opportunity to practice. >>

“Can you teach me? Isixia taught me enough to survive but never anything fun.” 

<< I will try. >>

“Hey Jhonnen,” Corso asked from where he was sitting. “How come you sometimes use your ma’s name instead of calling her your ma?” 

Jhonnen blinked. “I don’t know, I just always have. Maybe it was because of how we lived, I’d run errands for her on occasion and, business she was in, using her name was more attractive than some kid calling her mommy.” He shrugged. “It’s just how it’s always been.” 

* * *

“I think I’ve figured out why we get along so well,” Risha said, tuning the hyperdrive from the console in the engine room. She turned and faced him, arms across her chest. “We’re both restless people. It’s how we survive.” 

“That so?” 

“Trouble loves us, and we just keep on moving. Eventually, trouble gets tired of following and gives up.” 

That had never happened in Jhonnen’s experience, but it was _the dream_. “It’s nice having someone to run with,” he agreed. 

“There wasn’t _nearly_ enough trouble growing up on Dantooine.” Risha leaned back against the console, arms over her chest. Jhonnen settled on the nearby railing, carefully balanced as Risha described her childhood and the libraries of holo-recordings Nok Drayen had left. He leaned forward, letting her dominate his attention as she told him about running away at fourteen with a new identity and getting into trouble with Juran and Audila and Beryl. 

He laughed when she smiled, his own grin catching on the points of his teeth. 

“What is it?” Risha asked, half-way through an anecdote of the first heist she and Beryl ever pulled. 

“You’re beautiful when you relax, Rish,” Jhonnen told her honestly. “And you’re actually pretty funny.” 

“You know, I’m starting to enjoy these little chats, but we should be most of the way to Hoth by now and I’m eager for a little trouble.” 

“I’ll see what I can manifest for you,” he gave a sweeping bow, “My Queen.” 

He headed out to the lounge and the holo flickered with an incoming call. Jhonnen rolled his eyes as he answered and then wiped the disappointment off his face. Instead of Darmas or Dodonna, Jhonnen stared up at an unfamiliar human male. “Who’re you?”

“Captain Ozzik here.” Ozzik fired off camera. “ _Die You scum!_ Republic privateer—duck! We’re on the same side— _get that hangar sealed_.” 

Jhonnen felt tension knotting in his shoulders as he was forced to watch and listen, powerless to do anything to help. 

“Sorry, Captain. We’re under heavy fire. The Voidwolf. Without an immediate assist we’re going to be red smears on the— _duck!_ ” 

“Where are you?” Jhonnen asked. “What do you need?” 

“Quesh,” Ozzik said. “And backup. Get us out of here intact and my whole fleet’s yours for as long as you need it.” 

“I’m en route. Hang tight.” 

The line shut off and Jhonnen half-sprinted to the helm to change coordinates, heading for Quesh instead of Hoth. 

* * *

Jhonnen knew Quesh, though he’d only been down to the surface a scant handful of times. The Three Families—part of the Hutt Cartel—ran adrenal and stim factories and Jhonnen had run product from Quesh all over the galaxy. 

He and Bowdaar took the speeder and caught a shuttle down from the Orbital Station to the surface after being inoculated against Quesh’s poisonous atmosphere. 

Truly, a marvelous planet. It was a wonder more people didn’t vacation there. 

Jhonnen and Bowdaar touched down at a Republic base in the swamp and mounted up their speeder, Bowdaar’s paws set lightly on Jhonnen’s hips to avoid injuring him as Jhonnen scooted as far forward as he could to give Bowdaar as much room as possible. 

Ozzik had managed to forward coordinates as Jhonnen had drawn near the planet and these lead Jhonnen and Bowdaar to an underground bunker.

They arrived and Jhonnen felt that most of his contribution was having the foresight to bring Bowdaar. Few things stood up to a pissed off wookiee prize-fighter and none of those things were standard Imperial troops. 

Jhonnen—more specifically, Jhonnen’s grenades—kept the Imps from swarming Bowdaar like dekk flies. 

“Hello,” Jhonnen called as the dust settled. “Ozzik?” 

“He’s here! Ready the ships, we’re getting off this sinkhole!” Ozzik appeared from behind some landing gear. He gave Jhonnen a nod. “Get us out of here and everything you see is yours for the taking.” 

“The sooner this is done, the sooner we can all go somewhere else,” Jhonnen said, holstering his blaster. “What’s the—”

“Well, look who the rakghoul dragged in.” 

Jhonnen turned and beamed, “Beryl!” He opened his arms and scooped her up. “Fuck me but I’m glad you’re in one piece.” 

She kissed him once. 

“You two…know each other?” 

“Oh yes,” Beryl flicked one of Jhonnen’s chin tendrils. “Jhonnen does love his heroic rescues. Without his gallantry, I’d be stuck in a Taris prison cell right now.” 

“Well,” Ozzik said, not looking overly impressed, “I’m glad to be privy to the grand reunion, but we’ve got more urgent concerns.” And then he set into an explanation of how the Voidwolf (a name Jhonnen was getting _really sick of_ ) was marking ships for destruction. 

And then Jhonnen was off to destroy the sensor station. 

<< She’s very pretty, >> Bowdaar howled over the wind in Jhonnen’s ears. << How do you know her? >>

“We got each other out of some jams on Taris,” Jhonnen shouted back. “She used to date Risha.” 

<< Is Risha going to be annoyed by the kissing? >>

“I have no idea and it’s not her place to care _anyway_.” 

They reached the Imperial base and tore their way inside because Bowdaar wasn’t the sneaking sort. 

Jhonnen was mostly just grateful that the wookiee took point. 

They entered in the middle of a conversation between a skinny human male and a much larger one over the holo. 

“ —Station is working as planned, Grand Admiral. Not a single ship has gotten past us since the sensors went fully operational.” 

Jhonnen waved to the Grand Admiral. 

“Not a _single_ _ship_ , hmm?” The Grand Admiral asked with a sneer. “So it’s just the things right under your nose that you’re blind to?”

“Sir?” said the confused Imperial. “I assure you everything is under control. I have my best men guarding—”

“ _Had_ ,” the Grand Admiral spat. 

Jhonnen gave the commander a little love tap with his blaster. “Hiya.” 

The Commander’s yelp was cut short when he spun and Jhonnen’s blaster was even with his nose.

“What are _you_ doing here?” asked the Grand Admiral. “I thought you were on the leash of that shrew senator.” 

Jhonnen shrugged. 

“I am the Voidwolf. I _earned_ that name. And don’t imagine that discovering the stolen fortune of a—” 

“Bored.” Jhonnen shot the terminal and then the Commander. “C’mon, let’s hit those sensors and get back.” 

* * *

He and Bowdaar returned triumphantly and now Jhonnen had a face to put with the incredibly stupid name “Voidwolf.” All told it was a profitable afternoon. He and Bowdaar parked the speeder near the ships and he gave Beryl a wide smile and briefly, a flirtatious wag of his brow. She snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes, which was more than he could generally ask for.

Ozzik grinned at him. “I’ve sent my first ship out undetected. Looks like you really took their system down.” 

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Beryl set her hands on her hips and smiled. “Not after Taris; he’s better than he looks.” 

“And I already look _pretty good_ ,” Jhonnen flexed, earning another snorted laugh. 

Ozzik rolled his eyes. “Looks like I owe you. What can we do fo you? Once we’ve delivered these medicines to Skustell, that is.” 

Jhonnen shook his head. “Give Beryl and I a chance to catch up and I’ll call it even.” 

“I’m flattered,” Beryl gave a playful bat of her eyelashes and Jhonnen could almost forget how much he’d been shot at. 

Ozzik left to prepare his ship for launch and Beryl stepped back into Jhonnen’s arms, her hands settled on his ass. “Been waiting to do that,” she said quietly. 

“Turnabout's fair play.” Jhonnen cautioned, dipping his mouth to kiss her. 

<< Enjoy yourselves, >> Bowdaar said in a good natured tone.

“I’ll meet you back home,” Jhonnen said. “Sorry.” 

<< I am happy for you. I will meet you on the Orbital Station. >> Bowdaar excused himself.

“You know,” Beryl gave his ass another squeeze and smiled when he returned the gesture. “I liked you back when you were just a dashing rogue.” 

“I’m _still_ just a dashing rogue.” 

“What’d you say we find some privacy, catch up a little?” 

“If I find out you arranged this whole thing so I’d fall back into your arms, Beryl...” He kissed her. “I’ll be deeply fucking impressed.” 

“I should have thought of that. Maybe you should give me your holo so I don’t have to do that.” 

“Maybe I should.” He scooped her up and let her direct him to her quarters. 

* * *

“So tell me more about your childhood,” Jhonnen said, bringing Risha a sandwich. “Growing up a crime lord’s daughter.” 

Risha took the sandwich from him and took a bite, chewed carefully, and swallowed. “It’s a shame you only met him at the end of his life, Jhonnen. My father had his failings, but he inspired loyalty. Whenever he defeated a rival gangster, he always freed the enemy slaves.” 

“I’d heard that,” Jhonnen said. “A couple of the refugees down in the Industrial section had been freed by him. How many slaves actually signed-on?” 

“A lot of them had anger issues. Most were excited to have a job that let them express it.” Risha’s expression softened, drawing farther away as she dipped into her past. “There was this one little Twi’lek girl who joined us. Best thief I ever met. Got into all sorts of trouble together.” The small smile that had graced her features dimmed and died. “We were like sisters, but when father’s organization collapsed, we got separated. I never found out what happened to her.” 

“It’s not too late,” Jhonnen volunteered. “We know people and we’ve got credits, we could put out feelers for her.” 

Risha shook her head. “That was a long time ago. Sometimes it’s better to leave the past alone.” She cleared her throat and looked at her sandwich. When her eyes fixed back on Jhonnen, the wall was back in place and her eyes were fierce. “You’re really bringing out my chatty side today, that _usually_ means I need to get some exercise. Let’s find something more exciting to do than stand around.”

Jhonnen affixed a lecherous smile to his mouth, knowing when to change the subject with humor. “Well, I can recommend some cardio.” He waggled his brow. 

Risha rolled her eyes but she smiled. “I’ll pass flyboy, but maybe Akaavi or Corso’d take you up on that.” 

“A man can dream.”

“Of Corso?” 

“I’ve seen worse.” Jhonnen shrugged. “And at least he’s probably a cuddler.” 

Risha laughed. “Weren’t you complaining that he _doesn’t_ cuddle.” 

“Yeah but he probably _would_. And we’d talk about _feelings_ assuming that as men we have them.” 

“Assuming.” 

“Assuming.” 

* * *

Akaavi found him around dinner time. She rested her hands on the counter, almost in his face like she was looking to pick a fight and said, “you are not what I expected, Captain.” 

“Jhonnen, please,” Jhonnen said after swallowing. 

“I have seen you in battle.” Akaavi narrowed her eyes. “I know you can fight. But I have been killing Jedi and Republic troopers since my childhood, and you are nothing like them.”

Jhonnen _seriously_ doubted that. Doubted that Akaavi had gone after troopers and _fucking Jedi_ as a child, not that he was nothing like them. He knew he was nothing like them. 

He didn’t have classic combat training. 

“My father would not have thought you an honorable opponent, but I have seen your victories.” Akaavi pushed off the counter and gave him an approving—or perhaps _appraising—_ nod. “I believe you are a worthy foe.” 

“Please don’t try to shoot me.” Jhonnen said, mostly into his meal. He’d already had to ask Risha not to shoot him during the whole “I’m a crime princess” reveal. 

He didn’t enjoy getting shot. 

“A worthy foe is a gift. In defeating them, we hone ourselves to the best we can be and bring honor to the name Mandalorian.” 

“So it was a compliment.” 

“Yes.” 

_Cool_ , thought Jhonnen. _Please don’t shoot me_. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, then.” Jhonnen returned to his meal as Akaavi—her piece said—left the galley. He got about three bites in before Corso walked in to grab himself a bite. 

Corso grinned while making himself a sandwich. “I just got some real good news,” he said, plowing right in. “Somebody attempted to access Viidu’s old bank accounts from Tatooine.” 

Jhonnen chewed slowly and then set his spork down. “And that’s exciting because?” 

“It means somebody’s still alive,” Corso explained. “Viidu’s crew was like a family to me after mine was killed. I didn’t think any of them survived Skavak and Syreena.” Corso’s smile dimmed but never properly faltered. “I don’t know what they’d be doing on Tatooine.” 

“Well, we’ll find out first chance we get,” Jhonnen reached for his water and took a long drink. 

“That’d be a real favor, Jhonnen.” 

“Baaaaah.” Jhonnen swatted the words away. “You’re fam—” he caught himself. “You’re fine. Let me finish eating.” 

Corso stared at him for a long moment, then took his sandwich and left. 


	12. Stop, Collaborate And Listen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen is dragged to Hoth where he is miserable but spends some time sort of bonding with Akaavi. A little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stuff with Trick is horrible and ableist and I tried to work around it as best I could. Hopefully it's better than it is in canon.

“Your work on Balmorra was superb,” Senator Dodonna said over the holocomm. “The Military Expenditure Committee has even stopped harassing me about my ‘crazy’ privateer idea.” 

Jhonnen wondered if all Senators enjoyed blowing smoke up people’s asses as Dodonna seemed to. He folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to get to the important bits. 

“And let me apologize up-front. Hoth is hardly one of the galaxy’s top vacation spots.” 

It might be a minute. 

He raised his brow, trying to impress upon her his lack of interest in her apologies or well-wishes because he didn’t _like_ being in her pocket. 

“Here are the facts—” Dodonna said. “Until a few years ago Hoth was a frozen wasteland with zero habitation except the occasional pirate ship. Which would still be the case if we hadn’t lost our most advanced secret fleet in an ambush over it. With the number of ships that went down, we and the Imperials are both stuck here, battling it out to claim this rotten ice slick.” 

They lost their _secret fleet_ in an _ambush_. It was like they were trying to lose. 

“Bummer,” Jhonnen contributed. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“Right now, neither the Republic nor the Empire claims Hoth’s airspace. We were driven out by some witless pirates called the White Maw.” 

Jhonnen knew the name, White Maw were serious business and bad news. _However,_ he was irritated enough with the Senator that he smiled at her, displaying a row of sharp teeth, and offered, “Good for them.” 

Dodonna’s eyes narrowed in a satisfying manner. “Somehow these outlaws have acquired such a supremely advanced cloaking technology that they can outmaneuver both the Republic and the Empire.” 

“Neat.” 

“This cloaking device, whatever it is, makes their ships basically invisible to instruments. We can’t see them coming. We can’t stop them. And neither can the Empire.” Dodonna folded her hands in front of her, suddenly businesslike. “We need this device and we need _you_ to get it for us. All we want is the tech, anything else you find you may ‘dispose of’ as you see fit.” 

Jhonnen nodded and hoped he would find something worthwhile. 

“When you get planetside, speak to Major Panin. He’ll be your point-of-contact and tell you anything else you need to know. Good luck Captain.” 

The call died. 

Jhonnen flopped into a seat and rolled his head back. After pouting for a solid minture, Jhonnen rolled to his feet and used the intercom to summon his crew and fill them in. 

“Who knows about the White Maw?” Jhonnen asked. Risha and Akaavi both nodded. Corso shook his head and Bowdaar shrugged. “They’re a nasty pirate gang, they like to blow out the airlocks of ships they catch and jettison the crew.” He wrinkled his nose. “Which is terrible _and_ stupid. You’d never get the cargo back. Oh, they _also_ have some sort of advanced stealth tech that the _Good Senator_ would like us to get back.” 

Jhonnen leaned back against the galley counter. “Akaavi, I want you with me for this, when it comes to a show of force you’re—” he juggled air with his hands “ —fucking intimidating. Risha, I want you and Corso to resupply, see if you can milk that good ol’ boy charm for a discount.” He turned his attention to Bowdaar. “That leaves you manning the ship, if that’s alright.” 

<< Bowdaar will not fail you. >>

“You never do, Big Guy. I appreciate it.” Jhonnen turned his attention to Akaavi. “Dress warm.”

He headed into his room and pulled on the warmest clothes he had, suspecting that he’d _still_ be freezing his nuts off once they hit the planet’s surface. He headed back to the helm and guided _The Tink_ to the docking bay, waiting for confirmation that the umbilical had a firm grip before heading to meet Akaavi at the airlock. 

Their contact on the ground was Major Panin and Jhonnen had to physically restrain himself from asking Akaavi if she thought he was going to be a “major panin the ass.” He wasn’t sure _where_ Akaavi’s sense of humor landed—assuming she had one—but he could guess shitty wordplay wasn’t it. 

They were silent on the shuttle flight down as Jhonnen’s error in judgement became more and more apparent: neither he nor Akaavi looked like they belonged there. Probably because they _didn’t_ belong there. Akaavi was a zabrak with imperial tattoos and a pisspoor attitude. Jhonnen—well, didn’t look like he fit in. And he stood out distressingly against the snow.

He should have brought Corso. Or Risha. Or Bowdaar. 

But the decision had been made and he didn’t trust Akaavi enough to leave her with _The Tick_ unsupervised. She’d made it readily apparent that she wasn’t around out of any sense of loyalty. 

They got stopped once. Jhonnen presented some papers and they were permitted through but Jhonnen could _feel_ the eyes on the back of his cherry red neck. 

They entered Panin’s office and spooked his secretary, a male Mon Calamari who almost fell over in his haste to take his feet off the desk. 

“You startled me! I—I am Master Languss Tuno, Jedi advisor to the Republic forces.” 

Jhonnen was grateful he didn’t have eyebrows because one of them would have been scaling his forehead in disbelief. Last he checked—and, granted, he wasn’t an expert—Jedi Masters didn’t “kick back.” 

“I, ah, assume you’re from offworld, seeking the poor late Major Panin.” 

“He’s dead?” 

“Yep, blown to jelly. I, ah, hope you weren’t close.” 

Jhonnen shook his head, privately wondering if this meant he got to go home. 

“Poor Major Panin died in an Imperial strike on the base a few days ago, killed instantly.” Master Tuno stood up and turned to a console. “Ah, here are his notes. Senator Dodonna’s privateer, right? Infiltrating the White Maw? It won’t be easy to earn their trust.” 

“Surprise surprise.”

“I mean these are some organized and nasty sons of Hutts—” Tuno cleared his throat. “I mean… my child, the Force is dark around these pirates. They have great anger. Serious, serious anger, do you understand?” 

“Wow. You’re not even trying to sell this con, are you?” Jhonnen said without thinking.

“I—what?” Tuno sputtered. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“ _Relax_ ,” Jhonnen advised. “I’m not gonna sell you out or whatever. I literally don’t give a shit.” 

Tuno’s shoulders slumped. “What gave me away?” 

“Feet on the desk, the way you said _nasty sons of hutts_ and then your attempt to over correct. Mostly gut instinct.” Jhonnen shrugged. “Take your pick. What about you, Akaavi?” 

“Jedi have more discipline, they move with precision in all things.” Akaavi looked down at and on Tuno. “You do not.”

“Well, shit.” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Jhonnen didn’t look particularly sorry but this was only because he didn’t _feel_ particularly sorry. “Anyway, got any bright ideas about how I would go about earning the trust of dangerous pirates in the shortest amount of time possible? Because I hate this planet.” 

Tuno made a great show of thinking and then rummaged around for a datapad. “Ah, last week White Maw pirates tried to grab a cache of ship-to-ship sensors.” 

Jhonnen had a sinking feeling that he knew where this was going. 

“If you can ‘steal’,” Tuno held up his hands for scare quotes, “those—with the Republic’s full permission of course—they’d make the perfect goodwill offering.” 

“And I’m supposed to just trust you that you’ll get the Pubs to sign off on this,” Jhonnen crossed his arms over his chest and missed the raw intimidation factor that was Bowdaar. 

Not that Akaavi wasn’t terrifying in her own right, but people had _expectations_ about wookies. 

“It has to look like a real heist or the pirates will get suspicious.” 

“Sounds like you want me to pull off a real heist so you have some back up now that I know your damn secret, _Master Tuno_.” 

“I’m offended.” 

“Uh-huh.” Jhonnen narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you call the lieutenant _now_ and get this all squared away, hmm?” He hated to admit it, but Tuno’s plan wasn’t a bad one, assuming it was on the level. 

Tuno swallowed. “Look, I can’t actually call the lieutenant but your only chance is to steal those sensors.” 

“Buddy, look at me,” Jhonnen gestured to himself, “the _last_ thing I want right now is to piss off the pubs. I have a senator so far up my ass she’s coming out my ears.” He sighed. “I’m not saying it’s the _worst_ idea I’ve ever heard but if I can avoid getting blown to damn pieces over this, I’d like to.” 

“If you just show up bearing gifts the _pirates_ will blast you in half,” Tuno said, exasperated and maybe, Jhonnen thought, just the littlest bit terrified. 

Probably of Akaavi. 

She was looming. But she probably just enjoyed looming. 

“So why don’t I got talk to the fucking el-tee myself?” Jhonnen put both hands on the desk and leaned over it while he thought. “Dodonna said my methods were up to me but I seriously doubt she meant _give tech to the pirates_ was a viable strategy. I swear to fucking everything I hate that woman.” 

“You’re not… excited about serving the Republic?” 

“I’m not a fucking volunteer if that’s what you’re asking. Dodonna and her stoogey henchman have me by the balls.” He thought about Vivex and how badly her life and the lives of the other dancers could be impacted by this. To say nothing of Corso, Bowdaar and Risha. Jhonnen ruffled his red hair and frowned. “So why _are_ you masquerading as a Jedi Master. How the fuck did you pull that off?” 

“I was a padawan,” Tuno admitted with a small shrug. “Just not a very good one.” 

“I’m getting that.” Jhonnen huffed. “No judgement here on that score though, well, from me, Akaavi is entitled to her own opinion.” 

Akaavi snorted in response. 

“Which she will probably give when it suits her.” Jhonnen sat down on the cold desk and drummed his fingers on his biceps while he considered the best way out of this mess. If he could get the Lieutenant on board “stealing” the sensors was the fastest way to go about this, and the faster he was done the faster he could leave. “Who _is_ the Lieutenant in charge?” 

Tuno looked blankly at him. 

Jhonnen sighed and looked at Akaavi. He rolled his eyes and gestured to Tuno with his chin. 

Akaavi sprang. She caught the false jedi by the throat and slammed him down into the desk, glaring daggers at him. 

Jhonnen gaped like a fish, having hoped something similar would happen but not really having expected much. He cleared his throat. “I—damn Akaavi.” He walked around so he was able to lean over Tuno and said, in as serious a voice as he could manage. “Who are you _really_ working for?” 

Tuno froze, unable to tear his eyes off Akaavi’s snarl. “A—a pirate commander named Shai Tenna,” he trembled. “He sent me here to steal the sensors.” 

“Neat.” Jhonnen tapped Akaavi’s pauldron. “Let him up.” 

“We should kill him.” 

“Probably,” Jhonnen shrugged. “But that’s really not how I operate.” 

Akaavi snorted. 

* * *

The Lieutenant was a stiff sort of man _but_ apparently Major Pannin had mentioned Senator Dodonna’s whole “privateer” plan before he got himself blown the fuck up. Jhonnen filled out a pile of paperwork, blew up some droids for good measure, took the sensors, and headed back to speak with Tuno, who, despite being an untrustworthy jellyfish, was his best lead to getting in touch with the White Maw pirates. 

It was all phenomenally stupid and—aside from the explosions—really boring. 

They caught Tuno in the cafeteria and Jhonnen slid into the seat next to him, Akaavi blocking his other exit. “I need to meet your boss,” Jhonnen said in a sing-song voice. “So I can get off this frozen testicle they keep calling a world.” 

Tuno sputtered a laugh, Jhonnen couldn’t tell if it was genuine or nervous, and gave a tiny nod. “I’ll set up a meet. Thank you again for not killing me.” 

“You’ve been hanging out with really shitty people, Tuno,” Jhonnen sighed. “How’d you even _get_ here?” 

“I was a padawan,” Tuno answered. “I can _see_ the force, I just can’t use it. They threw me out when I got caught with a cheat sheet to the Jedi Code.” 

“First off, isn’t the code like, really short? Secondly, I didn’t know you could _stop_ being a jedi.” 

“It’s unusual and… yes.” Tuno slurped a his caf. “Probably they let me go because I _can’t_ use the force. I wouldn’t have made a good jedi anyway.” 

“Makes as much sense as anything I guess.” Jhonnen leaned back in his chair. “So then, what, life of crime? Drifting from world to world?” 

Tuno nodded. 

“Rough.” 

“I’ll go set up a meeting between you and Shai Tenna,” Tuno said, leaving as soon as Jhonnen slid out of the booth to let him up. “Shouldn’t take too long.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

* * *

Shai Tenna was a weequay with a temper, something not generally unexpected in a pirate underboss. It was a _little_ surprising the Tuno actually followed through with the meet up, and Jhonnen would have felt uncharitable about thinking it, but Hoth made him pretty uncharitable anyway. 

They met underground (the only reasonable place to meet on Hoth) and surrounded by Tenna’s pirates (also reasonable). Jhonnen had the faintest thought that he should have brought someone more capable of lying than Akaavi. 

Like Risha. 

He should have brought Risha. _She_ would probably have agreed, actually.

As impressive as Shai Tenna was, and a scared as Jhonnen felt he was probably supposed to be, Jhonnen’s attention was briefly captured by the beautiful twi’lek woman hanging on the underboss’s every word. 

When Tenna started talking, Jhonnen’s attention snapped back. << So, you have found what the fish-dog could not. You think this means you can best me? >>

_Fish-dog_ was an incredibly rude phrase and as little as Jhonnen liked Tuno, he had to fight to keep his stupid mouth shut because pointing _out_ that it was a rude phrase wasn’t going to win him any points. The underboss knew, that was why he used it. 

“You underestimate his intelligence.” Crooned the pretty red twi’lek, curling her arms around one of Tenna’s and pressing against him. “Even the lowest fool could never think he’s in the same league as the great Shai Tenna, my love.” 

Akaavi snorted and Jhonnen hoped she wasn’t about to get them both killed. 

<< This is Alilia, slave of my body and queen of my heart. The best treasure I ever plundered. >>

Jhonnen _really_ hoped that was a playful lover’s euphemism. 

Jhonnen _really doubted_ that that was a playful lover’s euphemism. 

<< So you have heard my name across the galaxy? Do they say it with fear? >> asked Shai Tenna. 

“Some mothers use it to frighten children into good behavior,” Jhonnen lied. “You’re the most feared Weequay pirate I’ve ever heard of.” He waited for Akaavi to scoff again, but her frown merely deepened. He should have brought Risha. 

“Your reputation is equal to your greatness, my love and lord.” Alilia’s lekku twitched. 

Jhonnen had grown up in a strip club, he knew that twitch. It meant _call the manager_. His blood boiled and he figured he was the closest thing to a manager present at this moment. 

But he couldn’t just kill Shai Tenna, not yet anyway. 

And he couldn’t try to daring rescue a girl he wasn’t _certain_ needed the rescue. He might muck things up worse for her. Hell, he might have misread the signal. 

Patience was a virtue and not one he was particularly good at. 

Shai Tenna slid his hand down to Alilia’s ass, pulling her close to him and kissing the top of her head. << I have heard of you too, >> he said to Jhonnen. << The starship captain who came from nowhere to recover the treasure of Nok Drayen. A man like you could be a great asset to the White Maw. >>

_Perfect_. Jhonnen let himself look flattered and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on one leg to make himself comfortable. “So what’s the catch?” 

<< Ah, a smart one. >>

Not something Jhonnen was _usually_ accused of. 

<< The Gen’Dai run the White Maw. To get their notice, you must first help me, no? Woman, >> he gave Alilia’s ass a smack. << You tell him. >>

Alilia dislodged herself gracefully from Shai Tenna and turned to fully address Jhonnen. “My love and Lord—” lekku twitch “—has a rival, a Devaronian named Kandhar.”

<< He brought cold-weather droids and blaster rifles, >> Tenna interrupted. << The Gen’Dai like this very, very much. >>

“Kandhar has taken favor away from my love and lord. So, to gain his help, you must eliminate the threat from Kandhar, first.”

“Sounds fair,” Jhonnen said, cursing himself for being an idiot. 

<< Do not return here until he is taken care of. >> Shai Tenna stretched. << Woman, tell him what to do with Kandhar. I am needed elsewhere. >>

Jhonnen waited until Tenna and his goons were out of the room. “You alright?” 

“That drooling idiot knows nothing about Kandhar _or_ what he’s asking you to take on.” Alilia rubbed her ass from where it had been fondled and smacked and scowled at Jhonnen for a moment before her face smoothed out and she sighed. “Kandhar got those droids through his alliance with the Empire. He’s planning to put his whole gang to work for them in return for help ousting the Gen’Dai.” 

“You’re a talented actress,” Jhonnen praised. “Need a lift when this is over?” 

Alilia frowned. “Is that an offer? Show me you’re a sure thing and we’ll talk.” 

Jhonnen nodded. She needed an out, he would prove he was reliable enough to provide one. Vivex might have an idea of how to help her once they got her away from the White Maw. 

Which could prove tricky but, eh, Jhonnen had done tricky before. 

“So what about this Kandhar guy?” Jhonnen asked. 

“The pirates here like being independent. If you expose his deal with the Empire his own men will tear him apart. There’s a secret tunnel in the mines nearby; it leads to the spot where Kandhar meets his Imperial supplier. Hide inside long enough, you should be able to catch him in the act.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “This works, you’re as dangerous as you are beautifu—you know, forget what I was going to say.” He shook his head. “You’ve got enough going on.” 

Alilia smiled at that. “Thank you.” 

* * *

 

Akaavi was in a sour mood all the way to the meeting spot. Jhonnen figured it was best to just let her stew. Whatever it was, if she felt it needed to be commented on, she was _definitely_ going to comment on it. They hid the speeder and entered the tunnel on foot, keeping to the deeper shadows and walking single file in a vague attempt to obscure the trail (Akaavi’s idea) until they were on hard packed snow and ice inside. 

The imperials arrived, closely followed by Kandhar and a small collection of goons. Jhonnen wasn’t particularly surprised to learn that the parties didn’t trust one another, neither group looked particularly trustworthy. 

“Kandhar.” The Imperial in front gave a curt nod. “The Voidwolf agrees to the terms of your deal.” 

There was that stupid fucking name again. 

The Imperial continued, “he will send the promised payment as soon as you secure your portion of the arrangement.” 

Kandhar nodded. << Tell him I’m close. >>

“Man, is _everyone_ the Voidwolf’s bitch these days?” Jhonnen pushed out of cover with his blaster in his hand but not pointed at anyone. “Or is it just the spineless ones who turn their backs on their friends?” 

“Kill this intruder!” Shouted the Imperial, predictably. 

<< It would be my pleasure. Get him, boys! >>

“Do _they_ know what the deal is? Because _I_ know what the deal is and _I_ think you’re just scared I’ll tell them.” Jhonnen gave a wolfish grin. 

“What are you talking about?” demanded one of the pirates. 

<< Kill him you fools! >>

“Yeah, he’s been busy with this deal for months. What the hell are they paying?” 

“Why are we meeting with this Imperial Scum?” 

“Wow,” Jhonnen gave a low whistle, grateful that Akaavi was still in cover in case he needed backup. “They have no idea. I’m sure it’s fine though, there’s absolutely no reason the Voidwolf would renege on a deal with some nobody pirate. Everything’s fine.” 

<< Nobody? >> Kandhar shouted, incensed. << Nobody! When the Empire sends me their battle droids, I will _lead_ the White Maw! With the Gen’Dai gone and their men sold into slavery, who’ll stand in my way?  >>

The man to Kandhar’s right pulled his blaster. “You turncoat son of a hutt!” He fired and Kandhar hit the ground. A short volley of blaster fire later, Akaavi stepped out of her hiding place, shot the Imperial leader in the spine, and walked over. 

“That could have gone poorly.” 

“But it didn’t,” Jhonnen said with a shrug. He looked at the pirate lieutenant. “I wasn’t expecting him to just admit it when I called him a nobody, I thought I’d have to work at that. He always such a pisspoor sport?” 

There were a couple of nods. 

“I guess a few of us had suspicions,” said the man who’d shot Kandhar. “But I’m glad we took out that swine before he could sell us all out to the Voidwolf.” It was a _really stupid name_. “I’m guessing it wasn’t just chance that you were waiting here?” 

“ _Apparently_ this is my ticket into the White Maw.” Jhonnen shrugged. “Courtesy of Shai Tenna.” _Please don’t shoot me please don’t shoot me._

The man gave an almost apologetic look. “You come from _him_ , I just want to give you a warning, kind of as a ‘thank you.’” 

“What’ve you got?” Jhonnen asked. “I never turn down warnings.” Though he did frequently ignore them. 

“Look, you want into the White Maw Shai Tenna is absolutely the best way. But he’s an ice-hearted, back-stabbing, miserable son of a Hutt. Doesn’t trust anyone.” 

_And with company like this, who could blame him?_ Jhonnen thought. 

“Alright,” Jhonnen said. 

“Kandhar’s sent men for him before—he’s got a personal shield generator, makes him basically untouchable.” 

“Smart man,” Jhonnen said. Shield generators were tricky. 

“An Ion Grenade,” Akaavi spoke up. “The man wishes to fight like a droid, fight him like a droid.” 

“That was Kandhar’s thinking next, yeah.” The pirate rolled his shoulders. “Look, I don’t want to cause any trouble, but if it saves your life, maybe remember who told you.” 

“Will do—” 

“Risold.” 

“Will do Risold, will do.” 

Jhonnen made sure he and Akaavi were back by the speeder before he spoke again. “You really think and Ion Grenade’ll do it?” 

“I think it is our best option.” 

“Thanks, Akaavi. That saves me a lot of trouble. Maybe. I hope.” 

Akaavi gave him a thin smile in return. 

* * *

“I’m freezing my tits off,” Jhonnen complained as he and Akaavi reached Shai Tenna’s base of operations. “If I _had_ tits they would have broken off and fractured into tiny glasslike pieces.” 

“You are cold. I get it.” Akaavi snorted. “It’s nearly nightfall.” 

“Greaaaaat.” 

They made their way inside and parked the speeder before heading deeper into the base to find either Shai Tenna or Alilia. 

Alilia was by herself, and she looked moderately pleased to see him. Jhonnen wasn’t sure if it was an act or not, but it was nice to see. 

“Kandhar’s dead. Can I have my _we heart the white maw_ club vest now?” 

Alilia’s smile warmed enough that it actually touched her pretty blue eyes. “Fantastic. Now we won’t be handed off to the Imperials like unwanted puppies.” She shook her head. “Sadly, it _also_ means the chance of my ‘love and lord’ getting a blaster bolt between the eyes just dropped to nil.” 

“ _I_ own a blaster,” Jhonnen pointed out. “All I need is a reason.” 

“Anyone who tries taking him out would need a better reason than me asking.” 

“I don’t.” Jhonnen quirked a smile. “Think about it, you can be the pirate queen and I’ll be the wandering gunman who disappears into the night if you don’t ask him to stay for dinner.”

Akaavi scoffed. “This simpering bed-toy—”

Jhonnen whirled around, forgetting that he came up only to Akaavi’s chest, and glared up at her. “ _Don’t_ ,” he hissed from between gritted teeth. “Call her that.” 

Akaavi took a half step backwards before she snorted, turned on her heel and stormed off. 

“You don’t have to stand up for me.” Alilia said. 

“Yes,” Jhonnen crossed his arms and turned back. “I do. It’s a long story. Short version is: My mom was a dancer, among other things.”

Alilia studied him for a moment. “I do half of what _he_ takes credit for anyway. The men are used to listening to me.” 

“Mull it over, I’m happy to pop him between the eyes if you ask.” 

The sound of boots ended the conversation prematurely and Shai Tenna walked up and wrapped an arm around Alilia. << The Devaronian is dead. His men have fled the planet. This is a good day! >>

Jhonnen nodded. “So you’ll get me in?” 

<< Of course. You help up your end of the bargain. >> there was something about Shai Tenna’s smile that made Jhonnen _uncomfortable_.  << You have proven your worth. You are now my brother in the White Maw. Of course, >> Tenna gave a quick nod of his head. << I killed both my brothers. >>

Something struck Jhonnen in the back of the head. 

The world went dark. 

* * *

Jhonnen woke up in a wampa pit. Technically it was a cave, but a cave is just a horizontal pit when it’s full of things that want to eat you. They hadn’t searched him before tossing him out to die, so he still had his grenades, his backup blaster, and his holocomm. The later was only important if he was desperate to hear Risha call him an idiot before he died of exposure. 

“Good, you live.” Akaavi said from behind him.

Jhonnen nodded and touched the back of his head to check for a—yes there was a lump there. And given how spikey his hair felt, a fair bit of frozen blood. 

Awesome. 

“Akaavi, before we escape and murder that two-faced bantha licking excuse for a Hutt’s reproductive system, I owe you an explanation.”

“Your mother was a sex worker.” Akaavi preempted. “You were protective of Alilia because of it.” 

“I—yes. How did you…?”

“Corso is a talkative drunk.” Akaavi cracked her neck and then set to stretching. “I can understand your reaction.” 

“It’s a sensitive subject. If we can avoid calling anyone who doesn’t want to be called a bed-toy a bed-toy or equivalent, I would appreciate it.” 

“Hmm.” 

Which was not an answer. And if it _was_ an answer it was probably not an answer Jhonnen wanted. But was probably the best Jhonnen was going to get. It was probably better to focus on the tasks at hand, being _where were they_ and _how could they be not here instead_. 

The first silent question was answered with a roar and Jhonnen immediately tried to revise it to something that couldn’t have the answer “a wampa den” but the wampa was already coming. 

Jhonnen lobbed a grenade at it and took advantage of it's brief stun to fire wildly into the monster's legs and torso, until his gun was overheating and the wampa was dead. He nudged the body with his foot, just be certain, and looked at Akaavi. “So… escaping might be interesting.” 

“It always is,” she said dryly. “Keep close to me. I suspect there are more of them.” 

They crept through the wampa caves, avoiding as much mauling as possible but Jhonnen had to admit—if you found yourself stranded on an inhospitable world with a bunch of bloodthirsty monsters, having a mando along was just good sense. 

Akaavi seemed to relish the conflict when it happened. He figured if he left her alone long enough she’d start making jerky. Which, depending on their situation, wasn’t a mistake. 

They got through the caves to another locked door and, oddly enough, Guss Tuno. “Oh my heart almost stopped when I heard what happened.” 

Jhonnen would have raised an eyebrow if he’d had one. 

“I had no idea,” Tuno continued. “I mean, I knew the guy was sleazy… kind of bloodthirsty, and not all that hygenic. But it turns out Shai Tenna’s here under orders of some big-shot gangster, Rogun the Butcher. He’s trying to bring the whole White Maw into Rogun’s fold.” 

Jhonnen pursed his lips. If _that_ was the case, why both having him kill Kandhar? They both wanted the same thing: to bring the White Maw into the Empire. Internal politics maybe? Jhonnen scowled. “Rogun’s got this thing for me, keeps sending me gifts. It’s pretty romantic, I’m thinking about saying yes.” 

“You think this was personal?” 

“I’m thinking someone tried to feed Akaavi and I to wampas and that that makes it personal now.” Jhonnen crossed his arms over his chest. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I didn’t like the idea of my information getting you mangled,” it was probably a lie but Jhonnen would take it. “Look, all I know is the minute Shai Tenna dumped you, his men went on a killing spree. He’s taken out half the leaders of the White Maw, and he’s not slowing down. Whatever you’re after, you’ve better get it and fast.”

“ _Currently_ I’m after his balls on a plate,” Jhonnen grumbled. “In repayment for not being able to feel my own. It’s _cold_.” 

“Jhonnen.” Akaavi warned.

“Also I’ve got a job to do.”

“The cloaker right?” Tuno asked, nodding to himself. “Major Panin’s notes mentioned. I bet the Republic would pay good money to get it for themselves.” He brightened. “I can help. When Shai Tenna started heads rolling they moved the cloaker to an underground base for security.” 

“And _your_ interest in all this?” 

“I’d really love to watch someone feed Shai Tenna his own teeth.” 

“I…” Jhonnen wasn’t sure he bought it. “I can support that, all things considered.” Maybe it was the head injury talking. 

“The base is nearby, through some rough territory. I’ll run ahead and distract the guards. There’s a back way in with only automated security. You should be able to handle it. Think of this as my way of saying I’m sorry.” 

“I’ll need a speeder.” 

“There should be one lying around upstairs.” 

Jhonnen nodded his thanks and watched Tuno take off. He looked up at Akaavi. “You ever get the feeling we’re about to do something stupid?” 

“Constantly with you.” Akaavi said. Jhonnen appreciated her honesty. 

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

* * *

_His_ speeder might have been gone forever, but the Imperial patrol he and Akaavi took out had its own speeders. Better speeders. Speeders with heated seats. Jhonnen was therefore going to count it as a win. Plus, Akaavi got her own. Double win. 

At a lack for anything better to do, Jhonnen followed Guss Tuno’s advice, privately kicking himself for showing any amount of trust in the Mon Calamari who was definitely already a proven liar. 

Not that Jhonnen wasn’t a liar himself. But Jhonnen knew when _he_ was lying and did not know when Tuno was lying and _that_ was the key difference. 

If Tuno had kept his end of the bargain and drawn some of the guards away, Shai Tenna employed a _fuckton_ of guards because there were still loads of them hanging around the entrance. Luckily, and despite her manner, Akaavi was decently sneaky and she and Jhonnen crept around as best they could, moving slow and being extra cautious of the way their red skin contrasted the chilly Hothian landscape. Akaavi kept her electostaff ready, moving quickly to silence a guard before the alarm could go up, the only sound the crunch of her boots on the packed snow. 

Jhonnen holstered his blaster. Akaavi apparently had this handled.

Again he considered that there were benefits to having a mando along, even if a lot of this trouble probably could have been avoided by bringing Risha. He couldn’t be sure of anything, and there was even the chance that Risha might have made things somehow _worse_ , but when lying thoroughly, Risha seemed a safer option than Akaavi. 

While Akaavi murdered and hid bodies, Jhonnen made himself useful dismantling security consoles. They made slow but continuous progress through the compound and found Guss. 

They found Guss in the hands of some angry looking pirates and standing squarely on the wrong end of their blasters. 

<< Sorry, Guss. You’ve served your purpose. Now Shai Tenna wants us to tie up some loose ends… >>

Jhonnen wanted, very badly, to be surprised. 

“No, this isn’t the way it—” Guss looked over, panicked, and spotted Jhonnen and Akaavi. “Captain! Please, for the love of all that is good and righteous, help me!” 

Jhonnen sighed. On the one hand, this was sort of what Guss got for playing both sides. On the other hand. “Yeah, alright.” 

He fired on both of the gunmen and then stepped out of the way for Akaavi to finish them off. He stepped over the bodies and tried not to listen as Akaavi snapped their necks to be sure. Guss stared at the dead men and then looked to Jhonnen. “You—you saved my life. Shai Tenna was going to—”

“That really can’t have been surprising.” Jhonnen shrugged. 

“Right,” Guss cleared his throat. “There are Gand Bounty hunters waiting in the next room, courtesy of Rogun the Butcher. I guess it was personal.” 

“Neat.” Jhonnen groaned. “Anything _special_ I should know?” 

He was going to dig Skavak up and shoot him _again_. 

“The bounty hunters rigged this whole place with that poisonous sludge they breathe. As soon as the door opens, that stuff is going to pour in here.” 

“Neat.” Jhonnen bit his lip, trying to think of a way out. 

“If you don’t want to drop dead before a shot hits you, forget the Gand. Go past them into the room and target the gas valves.” 

“That… actually has some merit,” Jhonnen said, sounding almost surprised in earnest. 

“Behind us,” Akaavi said, pushing Jhonnen to the ground. “I can hear them.” 

A half second later, Jhonnen heard the boots too. He sprung back up and fired, catching one bounty hunter in the shoulder and trying to provide covering fire for Akaavi and she darted up the ramp to deal with the others. 

Guss… mostly hung out in a corner. He didn’t seem the fight-y type. 

The first wave dealt with, Jhonnen had plans on dealing the rest of them. It was a great man who wrote “Knowing your opponent is there is the first step to sneaking around them and lobbing grenades at their head from behind them.” 

Actually, it was probably something Vivex had said. 

Regardless of the source, it was wisdom Jhonnen took to heart, creeping alone into the room and holding his breath as he disengaged the gas pipes.

The grenades were Akaavi’s signal and she came to the door once Jhonnen threw the first one, all bared teeth and hostility behind a sparking electrostaff. 

He reconsidered the merits of having Risha along. Risha was nowhere near this excited to kill a man. 

They returned to the control room and Jhonnen dusted snow and soot off his collar, offering Guss a cocky grin. 

Guss looked down at the ground. 

“What?” Jhonnen asked. 

“I… I don’t work for Shai Tenna,” Guss sort of spat it out like honesty tasted bad. “I work for Rogun.” 

Jhonnen wished he had eyebrows to lift. 

“There, I said it. The whole reason he sent me to Hoth was to kill you and… I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

Akaavi growled and started to lean forward. Jhonnen stuck out an arm to hold her back. “That’s handy, I don’t really wanna die.” He frowned. “But you know, now I’ve got no reason to expect you not to just double tap me in the back of the head when I turn around.” 

Akaavi gave an affirmative snort. 

“So you’re going to need to do a little bit better than ‘I don’t wanna anymore’.” 

Guss swallowed. “I had no idea what you were really like.” 

Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest, notably leaving Akaavi a clear shot. Guss seemed to notice and started talking more quickly. “The Jedi Order, it’s all black and white. Like, why try if I’ve already turned my back on the light? I ended up in hock to Rogun. He basically made me Shai Tenna’s slave, told him to use me how he wanted.” 

“And I feel for you, honest.” Jhonnen gave a faux-sympathetic nod and tried to ignore the actual sympathy in his gut. 

“I can get you to the cloaker.” Guss tried one last time. “No tricks, no traps.” 

Akaavi scoffed. 

Jhonnen wanted to, but he also needed that cloaker and he really _didn’t_ want to shoot Guss who’s biggest sin (against Jhonnen, not in general) seemed to be cowardice. There were lots of worse things for a guy to be. 

Not that Akaavi would see it that way if Jhonnen said it. 

“The White Maw’s base is in one of the Republic’s downed ships, lots of guards, no visitors.” 

“Neeeaaat.” 

“I’ll meet you—”

“You’re sticking to me like glitter to a stripper,” Jhonnen said pointedly. “Tell me about this cloaker.” 

“You might be surprised when you meet him.” 

Jhonnen’s jaw dropped. 

* * *

“This is seriously so fucked up.” Jhonnen muttered for probably the hundredth time. 

“Ssh,” Guss hissed as they crouched behind a shipping container. He pointed to the door. “The Cloaker—”

“Stop. Calling. Him. That,” Jhonnen growled. 

“Right, sorry. He’s just past those guards. They’ve got the keycode to get in. But these guys aren’t too bright. I mean, they’re used to: Shai Tenna barks, they jump. We should be able to put one over on them, no problem. I’ll follow your lead.” 

Jhonnen looked up at Akaavi. “Please don’t kill anyone unless this fucks up.” 

“There is no honor in lying.” 

“You and Bowdaar both, just let me lie then, you don’t even have to look happy about it.” He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. “Look downtrodden.” 

“What?” 

“Look. Downtrodden,” Jhonnen repeated himself. “Akaavi sports imperial tats, I’m pureblood, if I can convince them I’m sith they might shit themselves before calling the reinforcements.” 

He unhooked his blaster and handed it to Akaavi before standing.

“You there,” he snapped in a passably imperial accent. “I demand to see Shai Tenna, the dog responsible for _this_ ,” he gestured to Guss and Akaavi sort of shoved him forward, concealing the blaster in her hand. 

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” Jhonnen snapped. “Or are you somehow deficient of hearing?” He stormed forward, remembering Kira’s imitation. He didn’t have robes to billow. 

But he had the accent, and he just needed them to _doubt_ long enough. 

“I—” 

Jhonnen snapped his fingers and both guards jumped. “Akaavi.” 

Akaavi shoved Guss aside and shot both guards. 

Guss took a deep breath. “What was that? 

“Tricks I picked up, most people shit themselves over sith,” Jhonnen started going through pockets looking for a keycard and any credits the pair had on them. “And force-blind purebloods are enough of a black mark on the fucking species that half of your average scumbags forget we exist.” 

Which stung. 

It stung a lot. 

“I didn’t know that.” Guss muttered. 

Jhonnen picked up the keycard. “You didn’t need to.” 

They snuck deeper into the compound after Akaavi had handed Jhonnen his blaster back. 

“Why don’t you pretend to be sith full time?” Guss asked. 

Jhonnen shrugged. “Because if I get called on it I’m fucked and I really, _really_ hate the sith. Plus the accent’s uncomfortable.” 

Kira used to tell him he spoke it through his nose. She wasn’t wrong. If she’d been around they could fake master and apprentice, really take these idiots by storm. 

But Kira was gone and had been for years. 

Someone was singing. It wasn’t a lullaby Jhonnen recognized, but it couldn’t have been anything but. His heart dropped into his stomach as he rounded the corner and entered a large room where Alilia was kneeling beside a bed mat. 

“The Cloaker”’s name was Trick. Jhonnen only knew what Guss had known and it hadn’t been much. 

“Starships gone, mama. All gone.” 

“Hush love,” Alilia said fondly, brushing the backs of her fingers over Trick’s forehead. “The starships are fine. Get some sleep.” 

She turned and frowned. “Well if someone had to find out, I’m glad it was you. You’ve tracked down our secret weapon.” 

“That is a _person_ ,” Jhonnen said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Every inch the slave you are.”

“It’s true.” Alilia said miserably. “I’m the only one who sees him as a child, not a tool.” 

“Kitonak hit maturity by age nine,” Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “He’s an adult.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But if calling you mom helps, I can’t… I can’t say anything about that.” 

“We call him Trick.” Alilia said. “He’s got a connection to the Force, when he’s scared he uses it to hide himself.” She frowned delicately. “It’s his own bad luck the effect is powerful enough to extend over an entire fleet.”

“Poor guy.” 

“The White Maw bashed in his skull. I nursed him back as best I could, but his mind never came back.” She gave Jhonnen a desperate smile. “Hence ‘mama’.” 

Jhonnen nodded, eyes straying off of her and over Trick as she explained that his power was subconscious and so the pirates kept him terrified. 

He wasn’t going to hand Trick to the Republic. No chance, no way. 

“Please I’ve see the way you look at me—”

Jhonnen held up a hand. “Hey, none of that. You don’t owe me any eyelash batting or anything like that.” 

“Thank—”

<< So, >>

Jhonnen turned around and tried very hard to be surprised that Shai Tenna had a gun pointed at Guss’s head. 

<< You think you are clever to survive the wampas and listen to the fish-dog spill our secrets? >>

“Someone needs to tell Rogun I’m going to keep breaking his toys.” 

<< No one sets himself against Rogun the Butcher and survives. >>

“And yet,” Jhonnen’s left hand moved discreetly to his grenade belt. “I’m feeling pretty good about my chances.” 

He couldn’t risk the grenade with Alilia and Trick right there, but that just meant he needed to reposition the fight. 

Shai Tenna was the sort of man who used his size to intimidate. Which meant that he was standing too close to Jhonnen to be sensible. 

Jhonnen threw himself forward, shoving Tenna’s gun arm into the air so that when he fired he _didn’t_ spatter the far wall with the inside of Guss’s head. The pair rolled away and Shai Tenna was the first to his feet, delivering a bone-shattering kick to Jhonnen’s ribs only to catch Akaavi’s electrostaff to the back of the head. Jhonnen dropped the ion grenade. 

“Akaavi! Back!” 

She dove and Jhonnen rolled out of the way as the grenade went off, taking Shai Tenna’s shield with it. 

He called for reinforcements as Jhonnen scrambled to his feet and got his blaster out. 

Akaavi laughed, flourishing her elecrostaff. “Proper sport!” 

“Uh… sure.” 

Jhonnen took aim and fired into the mob that Akaavi seemed intent of stomping. 

He got a clear shot at Shai Tenna and took it, ending the fight as Shai Tenna’s body hit the floor. 

Akaavi broke another neck for good measure as Jhonnen approached the second in command, gun trained on the kneeling man’s face and a cruel smile on his own. “Hiya.” 

“Easy,” he raised his hands. “If Shai Tenna’s not cracking the whip, we’ve got no call to fight you. The White Maw cut us loose.” 

Jhonnen raised his brow, privately considering drawing eyebrows on for how often he seemed to need them. 

“And it looks like tha lady’s not keen on continuing the fight.” He looked past Jhonnen to Alilia. “Where to boss?” 

“Where…?” Alilia blinked. “Is he talking to me?” 

“I think you just became a pirate queen.” Jhonnen lifted his blaster aways tentatively, showing a small amount of trust to the man kneeling. 

“That’s…” Alilia looked at the pirate. “The tibanna mine ships on Bespin. We’ll hit them like we planned. Ready the fleet, blasters at the go.” She smiled a little. “Say, that was easy.” 

“You heard the lady!” The sergeant turned his head. “Get marching.” 

“Conventional shields only. As long as I’m in charge, Trick is off-limits.” 

“He needs a real doctor,” Jhonnen said. “And respect as an adult.” 

Alilia nodded. “I… yes. Yes you’re right.”

She held her chin up as the pirates marched off on her orders. “I don’t know how to thank you. I could _probably_ think of something.” She batted her eyelashes, this time as her own woman.

“I will take one kiss,” Jhonnen laughed. “But only because I got shot at a lot.” 

He turned his cheek to her and chuckled as Alilia’s lips touched the skin. Her hand came up to the other side of his face and turned it to face her so she could kiss him once on the mouth. “Thanks again.” 

“You need out, there’s a club on Nar Shadaa, Panwa Muni, tell Vivex you know me, she’ll look after you.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Alilia straightened. “But I think I’ve got this.” 

* * *

His comm rang as they were heading back out of the wreck and Jhonnen answered it, expecting Risha and getting a stuffed-shirt lieutenant instead. 

_Please have a wrong number._

“Captain Leaveson.”

_Damn it_. 

“Lieutenant Kollis here. We, ah, met earlier. That business with the ship to ship sensors? I spoke to Senator Dodonna and verified your assignment, but there a few things to clear up before you leave.” 

“Neat.” 

“I’d rather talk in person. I’m taking over Major Panin’s duties and I want to clear up his records. Just drop by his office before you head off-planet, all right?” 

“Fine.” _Ugh_. 

He hung up and looked at Akaavi, “when we get back just head straight for the shuttle, I’ll try not to be too long.” 

“And if the Lieutenant intends to delay you?” 

“I’ll call?”

He made his way into the office alone and stared at a Lieutenant who _already_ looked tired and fed up with things. 

Which was going to make Jhonnen’s explanations _awesome_. 

“Thank you for coming.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“So, according to Major Panin’s files, you were attempting to acquire the White Maw’s cloaking technology? Do you have anything to report?” 

“His name is Trick, he’s a Kitonak.” Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “I let him go.” 

“A kitonak?” 

“Force weirdness,” Jhonnen shrugged his shoulders. 

“That’s… disconcerting. I’ll request a Jedi advisor immediately.” Lieutenant Kollis cleared his throat. “If you have no other business here, have a speedy journey. Hoth is no place for civilians.” 

“Too fucking true,” Jhonnen agreed emphatically. He left the room and turned almost immediately into Guss. 

“So… funny running into you here.” 

“What do you want?” Jhonnen cocked his head to the side.

“Thank you for freeing me from this place and that sadistic jerk and…” Guss cleared his throat. “What do you say we make this a permanent arrangement?” 

“You want to tag along?” Jhonnen asked with utter disbelief. “And moreover you expect me to want you to tag along even though you were actively trying to kill me?” 

“Uh… yes.” 

Jhonnen rubbed the back of his neck. “I need the info on Rogun’s operation _anyway_ I guess.” He sighed. “Risha’s going to laugh me off my own damn ship for this, but you already know that Akaavi’ll kill you for looking at her wrong. Bowdaar—he’s a wookie—can smell trouble coming and Corso… eh… you’ll meet Corso.” 

“Sounds fun,” Guss shrugged. “Should I be worried?” 

“I usually am.” 

* * *

“You brought it with you,” Akaavi said when she met them near the airlock. “Why?” 

“His name is Guss and he has useful information,” Jhonnen answered, suspecting that his actual reasons (pity mostly) would be met with derision on both sides. 

“What did the Lieutenant want?” 

“A report,” Jhonnen stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled the rest of the way down the airlock. “I swear, I can’t wait ‘til this bullshit is over and I can go back to being just another ne’er-do-well.”

Aboard _The Tick_ once more, Jhonnen let out an audible sigh of relief and pulled off his coat. “Honey, I’m home!”

“Jhonnen, glad you’re back,” Corso shouted from the bowels of the ship. 

“Corso, if you keep answering to _honey_ Rish’s gonna get jealous.” Jhonnen shouted back. He grinned. 

“Wishful thinking again, Jhonnen?” Risha came around the corner with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her mouth. The smirk hardened when she saw Tuno. “Who’s our new friend?”

“Guss, this is Risha, my first mate. Risha, this is Guss, a man who knows things about Rogun the Butcher.” 

Akaavi scoffed. 

Risha pursed her lips and hummed with what was probably disapproval—and she didn’t know what had happened yet. Jhonnen anticipated getting both ears full when she heard about all of their _adventures_. 

It was nice that she worried though, he supposed. 

Jhonnen turned to Guss. “Find a bunk and get comfortable. We’re out of here.” 

“You’ve got a call,” Corso hollered. 

Jhonnen’s good mood evaporated. “Greeeeaaaaat.” 

He headed to the lounge and hit the button on the terminal, utterly unsurprised when a cross looking senator hoved into sight. 

“So what’s the report, Captain? I have to say, I was expecting better results from you. What happened to the White Maw’s cloaking technology?” 

“The cloaking technology didn’t exist. There was a dude with a weird force ability.” Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “The important part is the White Maw can’t use him anymore _either_.” Assuming Alilia was as good as her word and Jhonnen wanted to hope that she was. 

“This arrangement seems to be serving you far better than it’s serving me.” The Senator scowled. 

“Incoming call, Captain,” Risha said, coming up behind him. “That Darmas is on the other line.” 

Dodonna nodded and then gave Jhonnen was he was sure she _thought_ was a flirty wink. An obvious attempt at playing him an _not_ a good one. “Come look me up any time.” 

The holo went dark and Jhonnen pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Darmas?” Risha said.

“Just, give me a minute,” Jhonnen sighed. “One headache at a time.” 


	13. The Folly Of Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen and Corso rescue a member of Viidu's crew, possibly the last member of Viidu's crew.

“So good to catch you in, Captain.” Darmas’s smile was wide from where it towered over Jhonnen on the holo. 

Jhonnen wondered again if it was possible to set someone on fire with his brain, the headache from dealing with Dodonna not yet recessed. 

“I trust you’re finished playing white knight to poor little smugglers? If you’re finding yourself at loose ends now, a business opportunity has presented itself that I thought might interest you.”

“Your last little ‘business opportunity’ got me shackled to Dodonna,” Jhonnen pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. “I dislike being shackled.” 

“No risk, no reward.” 

“You put me on a fucking leash.” Jhonnen snapped, raw about the whole mess. 

“And if this job were a key to get you _off_ that leash?” Darmas raised one eyebrow. “Or it could _help_ at all.” 

“I hope you get fucked by a Wampa, Darmas,” Jhonnen scowled. “Where do you want to meet?” 

“We’ll meet on Port Nowhere over a game of sabacc,” Darmas’s smile hadn’t faltered. Jhonnen hated it. Something about it made him feel queasy. 

“I’ll be late, I’ve got shit to do.” 

He killed the transmission and huffed. “Corso,” he hollered, wandering the twisting hallway that wrapped around the lounge until he poked his head into the galley where Corso was cleaning Torchy on the counter. “Your little problem, with Viidu’s accounts, what planet was that again?” 

“Tatooine,” Corso looked up. “You alright, Jhonnen? You look like someone stomped all over your birthday cake.” 

“Mom and I never did birthday cakes, but, yes, that is pretty much what this feels like. Be ready to go.” 

He left Corso and wandered to the engine room looking for Risha. Healthy communication was, after all, the secret to not getting shot. He found her looking annoyed. Jhonnen sighed. “He’ll fit in fine, we haven’t airlocked Corso yet,” he preempted. Guss wasn’t _that_ bad.

Risha looked up and then shook her head. “It’s not that.” 

“Then what’s on your mind?” 

“If I’m going to take over Dubrillion, I can’t keep looking for allies in the same old places.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall, enticing Jhonnen further into the room. “The scum of the galaxy isn’t as useful when you’re stealing a throne. I need a better class of accomplices.” 

“Politicians are scummy.” Jhonnen pointed out. “A different kind of scummy, maybe more your speed these days.” He grinned. “I can’t see you having too much trouble wrapping one or ten around your little finger.” 

She hummed and nodded, looking away almost wistfully for a moment and then her eyes widened and she smirked. “There are some interesting rumors coming out of Dubrillion. Turns out the aristocracy is unhappy with the king. Some nobles are secretly rebelling.” 

“Think you can capitalize on that?” 

“The planet’s politics are ripe for change.” Risha shrugged. “All I have to do is personify that.” She wrinkled her pretty nose and looked Jhonnen full in the face. “Dubrillion is turning into another Alderaan.” 

“Perish the thought,” he chuckled, remembering how much she _hated_ Alderaan. 

“A new queen could prevent that, assuming she had the aristocracy’s support. But _that_ means taking this game to a new level. You up for that?” 

“I said I’d help, didn’t I?” Jhonnen cocked his head. “Besides, you might need a footstool and Corso listens to me more than he listens to you.” 

“Not offering to be my footstool yourself?” 

“Not my kink,” Jhonnen chuckled. “But it might be Corso’s. Not that he’d know, innocent, virginal bastard that he is.”

Risha laughed a little at that. “I’ve put out feelers to some key Dubrillion nobles, when one of them bites, be ready to pounce.” 

“I’m exceedingly pounceable.” Jhonnen said, then he laughed. “Also exceedingly willing to pounce.” 

“Don’t we have work?” Risha asked. “And what’s up with the Mon Calamari?” 

“Yes and his name is Guss. He’s a failed jedi who, like I said, knows about Rogun the Butcher.” Jhonnen shrugged. “Our little family just keeps growing.” 

“Your little family, maybe.” 

_If only_ , thought Jhonnen. For all his jokes, he still couldn’t really rely on anyone except _maybe_ Corso for fear that Bowdaar would grow resentful of his ‘debt’. 

* * *

Jhonnen was hiding in the cockpit. Not that he would admit to it. Akaavi had misinterpreted a handful of remarks and asked if he was interested in pursuing a relationship. The laughter had been automatic and profoundly unkind, but he’d legitimately thought she was cracking a joke. 

Her first joke.

Ever.

So now, after thoroughly apologizing and accidentally making it worse, Jhonnen was hiding. 

Akaavi was a bucket of worms, but it was a bucket Jhonnen was finding he cared about. She’d had a rough patch with her clan being decimated and he, being a recent orphan, could sort of understand. 

_Understanding_ , unfortunately, only seemed to make Akaavi tetchy. Which was a shame, there was a lot to like under the ruthless, cold exterior, Jhonnen was sure of it. 

And she hadn’t tried to murder Corso yet, also definitely a plus, though if he tried to pull any white knight bullshit after learning that Akaavi’s clan had been betrayed, that might not last. 

It was a long flight to Tatooine at least, long enough that maybe she’d cool down, if that was a thing Mandalorians did. It might not have been. 

Guss was… useless, but harmless. He seemed mostly stunned to surprise that no one had cuffed him for existing or shot at him yet. He’d only been hit the once, and that was after pressing Risha about Nok Drayen, which he couldn’t have known _not_ to do, but also wasn’t something Jhonnen could reprimand Risha about. 

Yep, hiding in the cockpit ‘til they hit Tatooine made the most sense. Maybe they would all kill each other before he landed. 

Actually that would be terrible and sad. He felt bad for thinking it. 

He missed _Kira_. Sitting alone in the cockpit staring at the stars it was easy to miss her. She was nicer than Risha while still having the banter and bite. She was smarter than Corso. 

They were supposed to be on this grand adventure together, maybe the Force would have shown Kira a way out of this stupid “privateer” mess. Or have caught Skavak’s shit before he stole the blasters and started the mess with Rogun. 

He didn’t even know what had happened to her. She’d just… vanished. 

And maybe that was on him. He’d been so _frightened_ , of her and of what she had done. He’d just run away, left her holding the bag. 

Maybe Impy had run home to be Sith. 

Jhonnen hoped not. 

* * *

Tatooine remained sandy, hot, and uncomfortable, but after Hoth Jhonnen was almost happy about it. He and Corso left the ship, leaving resupply instructions with Risha and “watch the new guy” instructions with Bowdaar. 

The guy they were looking for was named Jettison and Corso had actually done his homework about where to find him. 

The nice thing about Hoth, if Jhonnen craned his neck and looked for a silver lining, had been the _pair_ of Imperial speeders he and Akaavi had made off with. This meant that both Corso and Jhonnen had their own ride and Jhonnen didn’t have to reiterate that speeder safety wasn’t going to magically give Corso a taste for cock. It was also much cooler, which was what really mattered. 

The village Jettison had called from was in a cave and Jhonnen got a bad feeling in his gut as they pulled in. They found an older woman near the shield that protected the village and Jhonnen slid into his award winning “I belong here” smile that had almost literally never worked on the account of being a pureblood sith. 

“Do you have a minute? We’re looking for a stranger in your village.” 

“A twi’lek,” Corso elaborated. “Kid called Jettison. I got a call from him placed from here.” 

“No strangers here,” the old woman shook her head. “They don’t like them. If you’re smart, don’t be one.” 

“What’s wrong?” Corso’s tone sharpened. “What’s going on behind that shield?” 

“Busy,” answered the woman. “Busy time. It’s feast day you know.” She gave a short, deranged laugh. “Tastes just like bantha.” 

Jhonnen’s eyes caught on the collar around the old woman’s neck and his posture stiffened. Something was _wrong_. 

“What are you scared of?” he asked slowly. “Does it have something to do with where everyone is?” 

“Where everyone is… _what_ everyone is…” her expression cleared a little. “I’m a stranger here too. They kidnapped me to be their doctor. They collar me at nights. There’s something _wrong_ with this place.” 

“I’m getting that.” Jhonnen frowned delicately. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“The people… they’re crazy. They worship the desert. Burn sacrifices to her. And I…” her expression twisted with horror and she looked like she was about to vomit. “And I’ve treated them, _dozens of them_ , for the laughing sickness.” 

Jhonnen’s eyes went wide. _Oh shit_. 

“The what?” Corso asked. 

Jhonnen took stock of his painfully human companion. 

“There’s only one way to get that… eating human flesh!” whimpered the old woman. 

“Corso,” Jhonnen set a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Just… stay close.” 

They _might_ only eat humans, after all, and Jhonnen was very obviously not human. Jhonnen pulled some tools out of his belt and undid the collar around the woman’s neck. “Wait here. We’re going to go rescue our friend and then we’ll get you someplace with help.” 

She stared at him. “I’ve… I’ve eaten—”

“It’s fine. It won’t happen again,” he promised. “We’ll get you out of here.”

They walked into the camp and Jhonnen tensed as someone shouted, “set two more fires. These strangers will be fresh meat tonight!” 

“Are you sure?” Jhonnen’s hands went to his blaster and grenade belt. “Corso might be a hunk of man meat but I’m guessing he’s gamey as hell.” Jhonnen fingered a flashbang. “And I promise nothing but indigestion.”

“You mock us.” 

“Usually.”

“You have no idea what it takes to survive in the desert. Her gifts are few. It is _blasphemy_ to waste any flesh she provides.” 

“Are you seriously trying to—”

“Corso,” Jhonnen interrupted. “Bang.” 

Jhonnen chucked the flashbang forward and covered his ears, trusting that Corso had done the same. While the cultists were stunned, both men fired into them. 

“Bang,” Corso repeated incredulously as the dust settled. 

“It worked.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

They pressed, blasters ready, deeper into the cannibal camp until Corso whistled and darted up to what looked like an altar where a young twi’lek was tied up. 

“Jettison?” Corso said. The kid’s eyes snapped open. 

“C-Corso? Is that you? How did…? I didn’t think I was ever…”

Jhonnen undid the ropes and Jettison rubbed at the rope marks on his wrists. Jhonnen noted a slave collar and fished out his tools to get rid of it while Jettison tried to make sense of what had happened. 

“I heard they took in strangers who were new to the planet. Were… were they going to eat me?” 

“Probably,” Jhonnen said with a little shrug. “You’re safe now.” 

“How’d you end up here, Jet?” Corso asked once the collar was on the ground. “I thought Syreena got the whole crew.” 

“I had the sec cameras wired to my comm,” Jettison answered. “I saw it all go down, started running and didn’t stop ‘til I hit Tatooine.” 

“That is a _lot_ of running,” Jhonnen observed. 

“I was trying to start over. After what Syreena did… I’ve been too scared to go into anyone’s systems.” Jettison rubbed his face. “It was kind of a game to me, working for Viidu. It never really hit home that we were committing crimes. That people could die…”

Jhonnen’s mouth formed a thin line. He could understand, in a way, the kid had dealt with systems not people. 

But Isixia had driven home what crime was when Jhonnen had done his first little job at age ten. Someone should have sat this kid down and had a talk with him. 

For all Corso’s talk about how people—adults—shouldn’t be allowed to ruin their own lives, he’d let this child do it. 

And it _wasn’t_ Corso’s fault. Not really. He wasn’t Jettison’s guardian.

But Jhonnen needed to blame someone and Corso was _there_. 

“That’s how this line of work goes,” Jhonnen said, perhaps a little harshly. 

“I… I never thought about it. The HoloNet just always comes easy to me, you know.” Jettison stared at the ground. “And now everyone I know is dead, and I’m in this forsaken wasteland and…” 

“Don’t worry, Jet,” Corso said soothingly. “We’ll take care of you. Won’t we, Captain?” 

“Yeah,” Jhonnen’s tone was still tense. “I’ve got a friend on Nar Shaddaa who might need above board HoloNet help if you’ve got a head for marketing.” Jhonnen scratched his chin. “Unless Corso has other ideas.” 

“The Separatists are finished back on Ord, Jettison. Jhonnen and I wiped ‘em clean. I can make sure you’ve got enough to get a good start. Maybe find legitimate security work.” 

“Thank you, Corso.” Jettison beamed. “I can’t think of anyone from the old crew I’d rather have find me.” He turned his big earnest eyes to Jhonnen. “There’s no one more loyal than Corso, Captain. You’re lucky to have him.” 

Jhonnen, still privately considering feeding both boots to Corso, just nodded. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to civilization. You probably need a doctor and I _know_ the doc does. I’ll take the doc on my speeder. Jettison, stick with Corso on his.” 

They made it back to civilization and Jhonnen waited outside the medical tent and moved credits around so that Corso could make good on helping Jettison out, feeling a bit like a parent giving out an allowance. 

“He’ll be alright,” Corso said, coming to join him. He looked so fucking pleased with himself that Jhonnen almost hated to rain on his parade. 

Almost.

“How old is he?” Jhonnen looked up from his accounts.

“Sixteen.” 

“How long has he been working for Viidu?” 

“Couple of years.” Corso’s smile dimmed. “What’re you getting at?” 

“He thought it was a _game_ , Corso,” Jhonnen snapped. “You remember how you wanted to save Rona from her own mistakes? Rona’s a fucking adult, this is a _child_ we are talking about.” He kept his voice low. “Someone should have explained things to him. And that someone should have been _you_.” 

Corso fell silent. 

Jhonnen took a breath. “It’s not right to rag on you for it now. What’s done is done. But next time you’re wondering what the difference is, think about this real hard: a grown woman can do as she pleases but someone’s got to watch out for the kids.” 

* * *

Jettison took a job in Anchorhead and Jhonnen was pleased as punch to put Tatooine behind him again. Corso hadn’t said much since they returned to _The Tick_ but whether that was because he was sore or because he was thinking Jhonnen couldn’t be sure. 

Jhonnen avoided his crew, taking a small meal to the cockpit and closing the door behind him. 

Alone, Jhonnen dropped some of his guard. He produced the holoportrait of himself and Isixia and exhaled a shuddering breath. 

He hated seeing kids involved in all this shit, even knowing that he had _been one_. At least someone had been looking out for him. Isixia had had her faults, but she’d looked out for him. 

Jhonnen wiped away the tears that dripped down his nose. 

Kira was gone. 

His mother was gone. 

He had a ship full of people and he had never felt so alone. 


	14. A King's Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen gets drawn into part time piracy to deal with an Imperial Treasure Ship.

“You ever think about getting away from all this, Jhonnen?” Corso asked, coming into the cockpit. “The war? The Hutts? All of it? Ord’s at peace now, it’d be a simpler life.” 

“I’m flattered but think we should just stay friends, Corso.” Jhonnen turned in his chair and offered a pacifying smile. By now, Corso was either used to it or dumber than he looked. “Simple doesn’t always mean more pleasant or more worthwhile.” 

Not that _his_ life had been particularly pleasant lately. Stupid war and everything. 

“True enough,” Corso dropped into a seat. “After everything we’ve done… guess I’m just feeling like hiding my head in the sand.” 

“I can relate,” Jhonnen turned back to the astrogation chart.

“Viidu always had something to say about that—’gets you shot in the end.’ Better to face it head-on.” 

Jhonnen very nearly said something cruel about how Viidu had gotten shot, but he didn’t. He looked at Corso and saw a man as lost and scrambling as he was. He turned back to the astrogation chart. 

This stupid conversation was probably Corso’s attempt at making things normal again after Tatooine. Jhonnen could respect that. He didn’t necessarily reciprocate the need for normality, but he could respect that Corso needed it. 

Hell, with everything that’s been going on, they were sort of all the other had. There was no guarantee that Risha wouldn’t sell them all upriver, Jhonnen just had to hope she liked him more than that. 

But Corso was a sure thing. A stupid, infuriating, occasionally accidentally chauvinistic, white-knighting sure thing. 

“I just… I hope I’ve been _some_ help to you, Jhonnen.” 

Jhonnen looked back and found Corso studying his hands. 

“Because you’ve sure taught me a lot.” 

Jhonnen cracked a small smile. “I’m gonna hope you mean more than dirty tricks in a fight.” 

Corso nodded. “With Rona and all. You’ve got a way of looking at the world that I ain’t used to, but… it seems to work.” 

“I mean, I am sort of up to my asscrack in political nightmares at the moment,” Jhonnen tried to make light, uncomfortable with emotional vulnerability at the best of times. 

Corso huffed a small laugh. “Risha, she seems to actually respect you. Figure that says something.” 

“It’s just treating people like people, Corso.” Jhonnen grinned. “And you’ve come a long way since Ord Mantell. It’s good having you around.” 

“Thanks Jhonnen. I needed that.” 

* * *

Port Nowhere was the same as ever when Jhonnen pulled _The Tick_ alongside her. Risha met him at the door. “Don’t even think of leaving me behind on this one.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jhonnen said, despite the fact that he was so damn annoyed he might have gone by himself. Risha didn’t look convinced. She checked that her blaster rifle was charged and then followed him off the ship. 

Darmas wasn’t hard to find. He was, predictably, in the cantina back at the sabacc tables. He was standing, rather than playing, looking smug (because his face just _did_ that) alongside a cathar who probably could have eaten Jhonnen for breakfast. 

Cute though, Jhonnen might have let him. 

“Ah, what a moment for the holo-albums. Standing with two of the galaxy’s most famous… or should I say _notorious_ spacers.” 

Jhonnen swore that you could hook Darmas to a vent and power all the lights in Panwa Muni, he was that full of hot air. 

“Captain, I’d like to introduce you to Vaz Traniff. He’s, ah, how do I say this delicately…?”

“I rob ships,” Vaz helped. 

Jhonnen nodded; pirates happened. Usually when pirates happened it was a bad thing, particularly for people like Jhonnen who tended to haul around valuables.

“I thought you’d appreciate knowing that more than one of his hits has been against Rogun the Butcher.” 

Jhonnen _almost_ said that he didn’t give a fuck, but Risha elbowed him hard in the ribs. 

“Cool,” he managed, almost enthusiastically. 

“That mug’s been coming after my crew since the last job we pulled on him. Picked ‘em off one by one.” Vaz crossed his arms over his chest. “Now the Hutts have my best vault cracker. We don’t stop them, they’ll sell him to Rogun for the price on his head.” 

Jhonnen blinked. “There was a _lot_ of ‘we’ in that sentence.” 

Darmas smiled. “Vaz’s partner, Combo, was taken by the Hutts while doing preliminary scouting for what could be the heist of the millennium.” His smile grew wider. “An Imperial treasure starship, _The King’s Ransom_ , is in orbit just off Nar Shaddaa. I don’t have to tell you the kind of credits we’re talking about.” 

“You don’t _have_ too,” Risha said. Jhonnen could see credits dancing in her irises. “But I’d love to hear those numbers.” 

“You could be righteous _and_ rich. I figured you’d want in.” 

Jhonnen wanted to say that Darmas had figured _wrong_ but was also very aware of the fact that Risha might just shoot him. 

And the credits would help. They’d keep everyone afloat. They’d help Risha get her damn throne.

“I need more information,” Jhonnen said, still not certain he liked the idea. 

“Combo’s my best code cracker,” Vaz said. “Cuts through Imperial security like a vibroblade through bantha fat. We get him from the Hutts, we can hit _The King’s Ransom_ before she leaves orbit. Split the haul fifty-fifty.” 

“It’s not often you get the chance to thumb your nose at Rogun, strike a blow for the Republic, and still walk away with enough to retire on.” 

Jhonnen _ignored_ Darmas. “Which Hutts?” 

“They’re just after the bounty Rogun put on me and Combo,” Vaz said. “No personal stakes.” 

It was not an answer, but then, it was very likely that Vaz didn’t know which specific hutts.

“Rogun’s lieutenant Strilth is going to pick Combo up at a Hutt Cartel safe house on Nar Shaddaa. Vaz has the coordinates,” Darmas volunteered, still looking smug. 

Vaz sent the coordinates. “I’ll meet you there. If we don’t manage to rescue Combo, deal’s off.” 

“Noted,” Jhonnen nodded. “C’mon Risha. Let’s get back to the ship. 

* * *

Nar Shaddaa wasn’t _home_. Jhonnen had been clear about that with himself for years, but he couldn’t deny a bit of comfort when the big yellow moon rose up in the front window. He did, however, note that the comfort was dimmer than usual, and this he attributed to his mother’s death and the fact that he was showing up to rip the Hutts off. 

Which, while something he would enjoy, was also the sort of suicidally stupid thing his mother had always warned him about. 

Still, it was always a good day when he got to use his actual ident card instead of a forgery. He swanned into the galley and grinned up at Bowdaar. “I’m going to go do something suicidally dangerous and possibly piss off a lot of hutts. Wanna come?” 

Bowdaar rumbled a laugh. << I owe them for the indignities I have suffered. >>

“That you fucking do, pal. That you fucking do.” 

Leaving Bowdaar to get ready, Jhonnen hit the intercom and announced that everyone was welcome to go enjoy The Smuggler’s Moon but to keep their holos on so they didn’t get left behind if shit went sideways. 

And shit had this nasty habit of going sideways. 

“You’re not going to _leave_ me here, are you?” Guss asked, looking very worried. 

Jhonnen thought about it and then smiled and shook his head. “Just get here asap when I call everyone back. You get left it’ll be your own damn fault.” 

“I can work with that.” 

Guss hurried off and Jhonnen leaned against the wall, shaking his head. Alone in the corridor he felt wound tight and tense. Going after the Hutts was a stupid move. If this went wrong _lots_ of people were going to suffer. 

At least it wasn’t personal for the Hutts, or at least that’s what he’d been told. He couldn’t trust Vaz or Darmas afterall. 

He couldn’t trust much of fucking anybody. 

<< Are you ready? >>

He could trust Bowdaar. 

* * *

The safe house was tucked away in the Red Light District and Jhonnen said a quiet prayer to whatever was out there that Drollo wasn’t involved. If this backfired onto Panwa Muni, everything Jhonnen had done and sacrificed for would be in vain. 

And he was too pretty for that to happen to him. 

He and Bowdaar reached the safe house in time to catch Strilth and his cronies in the middle of… negotiations with the Hutts. It was a simple enough room, big lavish sofa for the hutt, small cell lit with force fields for the hapless bounty. 

Angry houk shouting in the middle of it. 

<< Rogun already said what he’ll pay. It’s not subject to negotiation. >> Strilth, the houk, said. This recategorized him in Jhonnen’s head to “a particularly stupid houk” because with the Hutts _everything_ was subject to negotiation. 

Everything. 

“I don’t know, I love negotiating,” Jhonnen stuck his thumbs in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. 

<< Haha, >> the hutt took notice of him. << I’ve heard of you, Captain. I never thought to meet such a notorious thorn in the great Rogun’s side.>>

He was being flattered. Jhonnen was officially nervous. 

<< He stole from Rogun! If you let him live, our deal is off. >>

And the nervousness increased. 

The Hutt, however, ignored Strilth. << This is a private business arrangement, Captain. I’ll have to ask you to leave. Unless you were planning to make an offer…? >>

_Should have brought Risha instead of Bowdaar_. 

He had expected a bloodbath, not negotiations. Bowdaar would probably _prefer_ the bloodbath honestly, but if there was a way Jhonnen could get out of this without getting shot at he was going to take it. 

Strilth was probably going to shoot at him anyway because he looked like a sore loser. 

“Maybe I am.” Jhonnen grinned like his life depended on being charming because really, it probably did. 

<< We’ve noticed your rise, Captain, >> the hutt observed with a small nod. << Your alliance with Rogun’s former White Maw pirates gives you a lot of influence in the Outer Rim. >>

_Thank you Alilia._

Strilth growled. He cut one meaty arm through the air. << Rogun will _kill_ you if you make a deal with this scum!  >>

<< Are you _threatening_ me?  >> the hutt demanded.

_Moron_ , Jhonnen thought. 

<< Do you truly think Rogun would war against the entire Hutt Cartel on your word? >>

“You kill everyone here, Captain, who’s to say who did it?” Jhonnen turned to watch Vaz as he ascended the steps. The Cathar folded his arms over his chest. “Strilth’s not known for working things out peacefully.” 

“You’re late,” Jhonnen said flatly. 

“Vaz! I-I knew you’d save me,” Combo choked out from his cell, the first thing he’d said since Jhonnen had entered the room. “Vaz, buddy, I just knew it.”

“Frame Rogun for killing Raskurro, you cut off his ties to the entire Hutt Cartel.” 

Jhonnen stared at Vaz like he’d grown an extra set of ears. “Are you a fucking moron?” 

Jhonnen _hated_ hutts and there was _no way_ that didn’t backfire.

<< Too many ways for that to backfire, >> said Bowdaar while Jhonnen nodded his agreement. 

<< You wouldn’t dare! >> Raskurro the Hutt snapped.

Jhonnen turned his attention to Raskurro. “You’ve now heard two opinions on the matter, interested in a third?” He grinned. Maybe nobody had to shoot anybody. Wouldn’t that be nice. And if Raskurro was a _clever_ hutt, he’d take Jhonnen up on it. 

<< The Hutt Cartel has always appreciated boldness. We are amenable to _your_ offer, Captain. >>

<< No! >> Strilth shouted. << I won’t let this scum humiliate Rogun a second time! >>

“This is at least the fifth time I’ve humiliated your boss,” Jhonnen’s hand strayed to his blaster. 

<< Finish this how you’d like, >> Raskurro said indifferently. << I’m done here. >>

Jhonnen pulled his blaster and focused it on Strilth. “Chances of you just walking away?” 

<< GRAWR >>

Jhonnen fired and then backpedaled as the houk kept coming until Bowdaar stepped in front of him and delivered a solid kick to Strilth’s chest, knocking him backwards while Jhonnen shot him a second and then third time. 

The fourth shot brought the bastard down and Jhonnen looked up at Bowdaar and smiled. “Sorry we had to deal with the Hutt.”

<< It was not unexpected. >>

“But it was unfortunate.”

<< Yes. >>

Jhonnen looked over to where Vaz was disconnecting the force field around Combo’s cell. In a breath the scared, scrawny human was bundled up in big furry arms. Vaz smiled a little and then stepped away. “Told you I wouldn’t let them hold you,” he said warmly. 

“I told ‘em you’d come for me, Vaz. They didn’t think you could do it.” Combo turned his attention onto Jhonnen. “Thanks lots for bringing Vaz here. I was real scared without him.” 

“Pleasure,” Jhonnen gave a smile and tucked his blaster away. 

“You shouldn’t have let the Hutt walk, Captain. No points for live enemies.” 

“Some of us have to live with Nar Shaddaa when this is over,” Jhonnen pointed out. “Too many ways for a frame job to go south.” 

Vaz shrugged. “Now we hit that Imperial treasure ship. Darmas made arrangements for us to use one of the Republic’s secret shuttle pads to get up there. I’ll transmit the specs and meet you. Then we’ll bilk those Imperials out of more credits than you’ve ever seen.”

“I have seen a _lot_ of credits,” Jhonnen, who had made his name by recovering the lost fortune of Nok Drayen, pointed out. 

Vaz laughed and then wrapped an arm around Combo’s shoulders and lead him away, leaving Bowdaar and Jhonnen standing there. 

“Think he’ll be on time this time?” Jhonnen asked, looking up at his friend. 

<< Probably not. >>

“Damn it.” 

* * *

“Bowdaar and I are meeting Vaz at a secret shuttle pad not far from here,” Jhonnen said to the annoyed holo of Risha tapping her foot in his palm. He kept walking. “Before you start I know that this wasn’t the plan but it is apparently what’s happening. Just be glad I didn’t try and frame anyone for the murder of a hutt.” 

“Just be glad you _what_?” Risha asked. 

“It’s a very long story. I’ll call either when we’re back or because we need the _Tick_ to pull off a daring aerial rescue.” 

“What makes you think I’ll rescue you, flyboy?” 

“I was actually going to call Corso for that bit,” Jhonnen smiled. “ _Corso_ would rescue me.” 

Risha laughed. “Stay out of trouble.” 

“I’ll try.” 

He really would have to call Corso for a rescue if it came down to it. He didn’t think Risha would _stop_ a rescue attempt, it just felt unlikely that she’d contribute more than a token effort. 

They got along alright though, that was something. 

Jhonnen turned up the ramp towards the shuttle and had to physically bite back a groan when he saw Senator Dodonna standing there like she owned the place. 

Which, in retrospect, she probably did. 

“Surprised to see me?” she said, turning around to face him. “Who do you think pulled the strings to let you _use_ this shuttle pad?” She smiled and tried to bat her eyelashes at him. Jhonnen very narrowly avoided rolling his eyes. “Darmas told me what you’re doing. It’s quite heroic, really.” 

Yep, super heroic plundering a non-military vessel. The sort of stuff children’s books were written about. 

“The Treaty of Coruscant forbids official strikes on non-military vessels. We’re lucky you’re not bound by that.” 

“Uh-huh,” Jhonnen said, unable to actual fake being polite. 

“Just a warning, then. The Empire is moving reinforcements into the area.” She smiled at him and it made him feel greasy. “I’d hate to see that handsome face blown into space debris.” 

“Neat.” 

Leaving the Senator behind, Jhonnen found Vaz leaning against the side of a hunk of junk emblazoned with Imperial colors. “This is the ship we’ll use to rendezvous. It’s Imperial salvage, so it’s good camo.” 

“Nice thinking,” Jhonnen said, nodding his approval. 

“Combo’s cracked the signal we need to dock with _The King’s Ransom_.” Vaz looked over to Combo with a little adoring smile on his mouth. 

Jhonnen smiled a little despite himself. 

The rest of the plan was simple, Vaz and Combo would hide out in an empty cargo container while Jhonnen, the better pilot, flew them to _The King’s Ransom_ and popped them out of the box when the hangar bay was secured. From there it was a standard loot-n-shoot. 

Jhonnen had never actually _done_ a standard loot-n-shoot before. Usually he just moved cargo from one place to another. 

It promised to be very exciting. 

“ _Don’t want that handsome face to be blown to space debris_ ,” Jhonnen muttered in a high falsetto. “Freaking Senator jinxing my freaking run.” 

* * *

They ran into trouble about thirty-seconds into boarding _The King’s Ransom_ when they were stopped by a stiff looking Imperial with a no-nonsense attitude. “Hey! What are you doing poking around here? The only arrival code we’ve received is for Imperial Starship 2423T6H3L5. Pilot Lieutenant Commander Ina’irolia’kleoni, of the Chiss alliance.” 

Jhonnen, a relatively scrawny pureblood sith in comfortable clothing and being followed by a scrawny wookie, was not going to be able to pass as a Chiss _anything_. 

“Surrender,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t crack. “Before the wookie tears you in half.”

The Imperial looked at Bowdaar. People had _expectations_ about wookies. “I’m not,” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat to try again. “I’m not dying just because the treasury won’t spend the same blasted money they expect me to guard! Do, do what you want with me. I won’t stop you.” 

Jhonnen bound and gagged the officer and had Bowdaar tuck him into an out of the way corner before he popped open the crate holding Vaz and Combo. “We’re here.” 

“Get the vaults, Combo,” Vaz gestured towards the greater starship area with his chin and Combo took off. Vaz then turned his attention back to Jhonnen. “When he’s got the security down, we should split up, hit as many vaults as we can before they lock down again.” 

“Good thinking.” 

“Meet you back here when we’re done.” 

As the term “Loot-n-Shoot” might imply, combat was inevitable. Jhonnen was grateful to have Bowdaar along. Bowdaar seemed to be enjoying himself, not the way Akaavi did, but the way a runner enjoys getting back into practice. It was very efficient and just the littlest bit scary. 

Jhonnen handled covering fire and slicing terminals, going over bodies for cred-chits and keycards as they progressed up to where the vaults were located. 

He could not find a _keycard_ for the first vault. 

But he did find a laser cannon. That’s functionally the same thing if you’re not too precious about being able to close the vault again, and Jhonnen wasn’t even the littlest bit precious about that. With the doors melted, Jhonnen was able to just walk in and scoop the bits of shiny that would fit into his pockets and pack up. 

It worked so nice he did it twice and stole a bunch of artifacts. 

And then, because why fix what isn’t broken, Jhonnen pointed the laser cannon at the _third_ vault. 

The third vault contained Moffs instead of treasure and Jhonnen didn’t feel this was a fair trade off. He accidentally blundered into their conversation, interrupting what sounded like a very interesting complaint about replacing loyal servants of the Empire with lawless criminals. 

Kind of like what the Republic was doing. 

“Who are you?” One of the Moffs demanded, taking stock of Jhonnen’s outfit and bulging pockets and guessing immediately that he wasn’t a sith lord. “How did you get in here?” 

“Laser cannon,” Jhonnen answered truthfully. “So I’ll just be taking whatever you’ve got in your pockets and moving on to the next vault.” 

“The ship is under attack!” snapped a second moff. “Call for reinforcements! The Voidwolf.” 

_Not again_ , Jhonnen sighed and let his shoulders slump, watching with disinterested eyes as the third moff slammed a button and summoned a holo of the Voidwolf. Interestingly, he seemed to have little to no interest in helping, judging by his expression. He just sort of tapped his foot waiting for the moff to finish explaining the situation. Jhonnen was a little surprised he didn’t suppress a yawn. 

Because everyone in the empire was evil. Mustache twirling, cartoonishly, evil.

“Hiya,” Jhonnen said, waving with his drawn blaster.

“You’re the one they’re begging me to save them from?” The Voidwolf looked Jhonnen over. “I guess there are things _pathetic lawless criminals_ are good for after all.” 

“This sounds personal,” Jhonnen said. “I’m gonna go.” 

“You’re bound by the rules of warfare to send reinforcements when an Imperial vessel is under attack!” shouted one of the Moffs at the Voidwolf. 

“Oh, did I not mention?” The Voidwolf’s mouth twitched to a cruel and unfeeling smile. “The Empire just declared war on the Republic and all its representatives. _And_ as Article 17 of the Ziost Conventions states, an Imperial admiral is justified in destroying Imperial targets at risk of falling into enemy hands.” 

_Oh shit._

“With the Captain’s track record…” the Voidwolf chuckled just a little. “I just can’t take that chance.” 

Jhonnen turned and shot all three Moffs dead as the ship rocked. “We’ve gotta move!” he shouted at Bowdaar. 

“Captain!” Combo’s voice echoed tinnily from Jhonnen’s comm. “Get back to the hangar bay. There’s an Imperial battle cruiser attacking the ship, the whole thing’s gonna blow!” 

It was happening too fast.

It felt like a _trap_. 

He could worry about that _later_. 

Jhonnen ran like hell, Bowdaar easily overtaking him and slowing to insure that Jhonnen wasn’t going to be left behind. 

He threw himself into the shuttle just behind Bowdaar and darted for the controls, checking to make sure both Combo and Vaz were aboard before gunning it.

The shuttle was quiet save the sound of heavy breathing the whole of the short flight back to Nar Shaddaa. Jhonnen landed on the secret Republic landing pad and considered that, despite almost blowing up, he had made it out with a fair amount of loot. 

“I hate Imperials,” Vaz grumbled. “Worse than a hutt on glitterstim. What kind of morons blow up their own ship so it don’t get looted?” 

“Imps,” Jhonnen shrugged. Suspecting that more had been going on. The Voidwolf had been _itching_ to blow up that ship. Jhonnen and Vaz had been… an excuse. 

It made Jhonnen uncomfortable to think about. 

“How much did we get?” Vaz asked. 

“Even split, still enough to make it worthwhile,” Jhonnen said. “What’d you get?” 

“I’ll have Combo run the numbers, he’s good at them and too honest for his own good,” Vaz cracked a small smile. “Sorta like you, kid.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“If you’d like.”

Money split, Jhonnen headed back towards the door and, eventually, his beloved _Tick_.

Before he could _get_ there, however, he wandered onto the sight of a man threatening Senator Dodonna. Jhonnen pulled his blaster and quietly regretted not being thirty seconds later. A lot of his problems would be solved if she just… died. 

But he couldn’t just stand by and let it happen. 

“Hey!” He shouted. “Heya! Exciting afternoon?” 

“Captain!” Dodonna exclaimed. “I thought you were dead. The ship… I saw it explode.”

<< I thought you was dead, too. Rogun’s gonna be real happy I didn’t get here too late. >> The thug said. << The rest of you, sic the ssorokks on the lady. I’m taking this one on—>>

Jhonnen shot the man in the throat because he didn’t like monologues. 

The Ssorokks were huge hunched beasts similar to crabs. They died hard, but they still died. Jhonnen kicked one body with his boot and looked at the Senator, already regretting having saved her life. 

“So, Captain, are you the bad luck that keeps getting me attacked or the lucky charm who keeps rescuing me.” 

“Definitely bad luck,” Jhonnen gave a small nod. “It would probably be safest if we never saw each other again.” 

Dodonna laughed like this was a particularly witty joke. She turned her attention to the carcasses on the floor. “What are those things? Have you ever seen an animal like this?” 

“Nope.”

“Well, I’ll pay good money to find out what they are _and_ how Rogun the Butcher got his hands on them.” She put her hands on her hips. “He’s just manage to move himself from thorn-in-my-side to Public Enemy Number One.” 

“I’d think, with the war and everything, you’d have bigger problems. Bigger, Voidwolfy problems.” 

“The _Voidwolf_ is beyond our power to deal with. He’s the most powerful non-Sith military leader in the Empire. But Rogun is one of his most dangerous tools. I think the time has come to take down his criminal empire once and for all.”

“Neat,” Jhonnen’s shoulders fell in disappointment. She was going to make _him_ do it, wasn’t she?

“Find out anything Darmas knows about Rogun’s businesses. _And_ where he might have gotten those… things that attacked me. Then we can figure out how to best work this plan into the larger war effort.” Dodonna turned on her heel and exited through the door. Jhonnen waited because he didn’t want to risk running into her. 

<< Are you alright? >> Bowdaar asked. 

“Just… wishing I’d let her get eaten,” Jhonnen sighed. “Damn my good nature.” 

Bowdaar clapped him fondly on the shoulder, forcing Jhonnen to sag to one side. Jhonnen looked up and managed a brighter smile. “Thanks buddy.” 

They had just made a ton of money. 

It wasn’t _all_ bad. 


	15. Let's All Go To Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen learns about and visits the prison planet of Belsavis in an attempt to get the upper hand on Rogun the Butcher.

The Galaxy was at war. 

This was, by its very nature, a bad thing. Countless innocents and combatants were going to lose their lives in the squabble, and Jhonnen hated that. What he hated _more_ , however, was the knowledge that the war was his problem personally and that he might be one of the innocents (for given values of the term) getting blown to jelly. 

Viv always said that the underworld did well in times of strife. People sought out the comfort of dancers and prostitutes more readily, people were less cautious with their belongings, lawmen had bigger fish to fry. 

But that didn’t mean war was good for business. It _was_ , but Jhonnen had been taught to look beyond the immediate. Instead he focused on too many men with guns thinking they were entitled to what they wanted just because they were fighting and dying. 

And Jhonnen had a ship load of people he was now dragging around after him into this mess. He wondered if Guss might bail now that things were officially getting hot. Akaavi might leave to get a bigger slice of the action. Corso and Risha would probably stick around, Corso because he was loyal and stupid and Risha because she wanted Jhonnen’s help securing Dubrillion. 

Bowdaar would stick around out of loyalty and a debt Jhonnen didn’t feel he was owed. 

“I should throw them all off,” Jhonnen grumped, shoulders hunched to his ears in the cockpit. “Safer that way.” 

But he wouldn’t. He’d gotten used to the company. He didn’t _trust_ most of that company, but he had gotten used to it. 

They pulled up to Port Nowhere and Jhonnen met Risha at the airlock. 

“You alright, Jhonnen?” She raised a perfect eyebrow. “You look a little tense.” 

“Just dreading the headache that is Darmas,” Jhonnen said sweetly. “Man sets all of my pointy pointy teeth on edge.” 

“I agree that he’s too smooth,” Risha said with a nod. “Kind of like you.” 

“I’m nowhere _near_ that slippery,” Jhonnen gave her a smile. “But I’ll take the compliment, assuming it was one.” 

Risha’s smile was unreadable. 

Port Nowhere’s attitude had changed only a little with the outbreak of the war and Jhonnen was pretty sure he could only read the change because he’d been doing this for as long as he had. People were just a hair more on edge and it made Jhonnen nervous. He stuck close to Risha, trusting she could read the air as clearly as he did. 

Technically, she’d been in this game longer if only because she’d been on her own since she was a kid. 

Darmas was at the bar, looking smug because that was how his face worked. 

“Welcome back, Captain.” Darmas waved for another two drinks. “Senator Dodonna’s already called to rave about how you just saved her life.” He picked up the pair of Corellian whiskeys and handed one to Jhonnen and one to Risha. Risha sipped hers. “Meaning the whole Republic’s backing you when you finally take down Rogun. Not bad for someone from the wrong side of the hyperlane.” 

Jhonnen studied his drink and then downed it, shaking his head through the burn. “You’re both trying to get me fucking killed,” he said, admittedly a little moody about it. 

Darmas chuckled, and not kindly. “Unless you _like_ being ambushed in every spaceport, I don’t think the Butcher’s giving you much choice.” He leaned more comfortably against the bar. “You’re definitely off to a good start. He’s lost a lot of influence since you cut him off from the Hutts.”

“Hrm,” was Jhonnen’s reply.

“Let me get the Senator on the link. She’s going to want to hear what I’ve found.” Darmas produced his holo and a minute later an annoyed, diminutive Dodonna appeared in his palm. 

“What is it?” she snapped. “And talk quickly, I got pulled out of a vote for this.” 

“Creatures Rogun sent at you seem to be cybernetically modified versions of native Vossian wildlife.” Darmas said. 

_Vossian_ meant nothing to Jhonnen. 

“Voss!” 

But it clearly meant something to Dodonna. 

“As far as I know, no native animal has ever been legally exported off Voss.” Darmas said like it was a revelation.

Given as they were dealing with gangsters, the _legality_ of it wasn’t really a surprise to Jhonnen who simply asked, “Voss?” for clarification. 

Dodonna turned in Darmas’s palm to face him. “Voss is a newly discovered world. Very isolationist—they’re governed by some strange cult of Force users.” 

Most cults of Force users (the Jedi, the Sith) were strange honestly. 

“I’ll try to wrangle you a landing permit, but it will take time.” Dodonna finished. 

“We shouldn’t wait,” Darmas said, shaking his head. “Rogun’s finally vulnerable, and the captain’s gained quite a reputation recently.” 

“ _Hooray_ ,” muttered Jhonnen under his breath. 

“If anyone’s going to conquer his criminal empire, Jhonnen, this is the time and you’re the man with the crown.” 

“ _Hooray_ ,” Jhonnen said, a little louder. He cleared his throat. “I just want him to stop trying to kill me every five damn minutes.” 

“Unfortunately,” Darmas shook his head. “The only one who knew all of Rogun’s secrets was his mentor, Ivory. And he disappeared years ago.” 

“That’s not…” Dodonna cleared her throat. “ _Entirely_ true. Rogun’s predecessor was arrested by the Republic. To my knowledge, he is still incarcerated in a top secret facility on Belsavis.”

More planets Jhonnen had never heard of. But at least Risha had lifted an eyebrow skeptically so Jhonnen didn’t have to. 

“This is highly restricted information,” Dodonna pressed. “Even within the Senate, not everyone knows of Belsavis. You must not repeat any part of this.” 

Jhonnen “Not A Republic Citizen” Leif folded his arms over his chest. Nothing good could come from being told highly sensitive Republic information. Nothing. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the Galactic Good Guys?” Jhonnen asked with a skeptical expression. “How’s a prison planet feature into _that_?”

“If you don’t kill offenders outright, you need a place to put them,” Dodonna shrugged. “It may take months to get the permits for Voss. Belsavis will be easier.” 

Darmas fixed his gaze on Jhonnen’s face. “Ivory and Rogun were like father and son. If you can find him, he’ll know Rogun’s hideouts, stashes, things we’d never find ourselves.” 

And just like that it felt like going after family. It was different, because Ivory was a crime boss in his own right, but it was a little too close for comfort. 

Not that any part of this was comfortable. 

“This is a man who used to sell children to the Hutts for gladiatorial games,” Dodonna tutted. “The Republic will insist on tight restrictions for dealing with him.” She sighed. “But it’s worth it. If you’re going to war with Rogun, Belsavis will be your first battleground. I’ll get the permits in order.” 

The holo went dark and Darmas’s smile grew, bright and smug. “Rogun has no idea who’s coming after him.” 

“I think the whole damn underworld knows I’m the one after him,” Jhonnen pointed out grudgingly. Being a famous smuggler was a good step in becoming a dead smuggler and “war” was a lot more drawn out than he liked his conflicts. 

He almost missed Skavak. 

Almost. 

Not quite. 

* * *

There was some downtime while waiting for Dodonna to get the permits for Belsavis and Jhonnen used them to resupply and look for work, knowing that he wasn’t going to find anything because Rogun’s goons were all gunning for him. 

If nothing else, that was the reason Rogun had to die. 

Not for the Galaxy. Not for the fucking Republic. But because Rogun was making Jhonnen’s life considerably more difficult than it needed to be. 

Things were then complicated by Corso coming into the cockpit looking for help for Ord Mantell. Jhonnen half-listened to Corso as he said he was being called a planetary hero (which raised some questions about how the Mantellian government knew what Jhonnen was doing, questions Corso had better _hope_ he didn’t have answers to) and that the Imps had put an EMP pulsar in orbit around the planet, thereby fucking everything up. 

“What do they need?” Jhonnen groaned. 

“They’re asking us to go to Balmorra. The Empire’s got disarm codes stored there, but Ord has no troops with the gear or training to go after them.” 

Jhonnen’s head connected with the dashboard. “Yeah, we can do it.” 

“No need to sound so excited, Jhonnen.” 

“Sneaking around collicoid territory isn’t my idea of a good time. Just be ready when we land.” 

Jhonnen waited until Corso had left the room to lift his head and plug the coordinates for Balmorra into the astrogation chart, privately hating everyone in the comfort of his own thoughts. 

“Hey, there’s food,” Risha said, passing by the cockpit on her way back to the engine room. “And we need to talk.” 

“Be right there,” Jhonnen sighed, standing up. He wasn’t hungry, but he did need to know whatever it was on Risha’s mind. 

Woman had a mind like a maze and getting the landscape was the best way to keep himself on her good side. 

Risha was eating in the engine room, never much for the company and conversation of the others, too much time on her own, he supposed. It was funny, she was drop dead gorgeous and had a mind like a steel trap. Not so long ago he thought he was falling for her just a little bit.

But it was never going to be reciprocated. Risha wasn’t _nice_ , much less _interested_. 

Maybe he’d given up. 

Maybe he was glad of that. 

He missed things being simple. “What’s on your mind?” He asked, leaning against the door for a moment before wandering in. The engine sang comfortingly to him as he settled against the railing.

“I notice we’re spending a lot of time together. I’m not complaining but… you know this can’t go anywhere, right?” Risha set her fork aside. “Sooner or later, I have to leave your ship. I don’t want any hard feelings when I do. Does that make sense?” 

Jhonnen nodded. “I sort of figured as much.”

She looked a little relieved and a little mad about it. “Why form a messy attachment if we’re just going to split up later? We’ll have fun while it lasts, and no regrets when it’s done. Perfect.” 

“I just want us to be friends, Rish, honest.” 

Risha’s mouth twitched. “That would be a new one.” 

“Could be fun.” 

“Could be fun,” she agreed. “Never thought I’d say this, but you’re my favorite partner in crime. You make beating the odds look easy, Jhonnen.” 

“Thanks Rish, I like paling around with you too.” 

* * *

Of everywhere they’d been, Balmorra was the least changed by the war. Probably because it had been an active warzone _last time_ Jhonnen had visited it. There was no comfort in the familiarity and Jhonnen wanted nothing so much as to get the disarm codes for the stupid EMP pulsar and get off world. 

Corso, however, felt like a real hero and was irritatingly gung-ho and chipper about the whole mess. 

At least the Mantellian info was detailed and seemed solid. Jhonnen and Corso had very little difficulty finding the cave where everything was supposed to be hidden. It required sneaking into an Imperial base, but really, what didn’t these days? 

Things were going great until they got jumped by a trio of older looking Imperials. They didn’t put up much of a fight but at the end of it the officer’s comm started going. 

“Magar! Magar, answer me! We’ve been waiting for your all-clear. Are you there? Blasted Imperials!” The voice was female and Balmorran with a heavy accent. 

Jhonnen’s heart dropped into his boots as Corso knelt to find and answer the comm. “Hello?” 

“You’re not my husband,” said the woman as she flickered into view. “Why are you answering his comm?” 

Jhonnen cleared his throat. “We uh, we just fought a group of Imperial soldiers. One of them was wearing this comm.” 

“Imperial?” The woman looked shocked and then, just sad. “Oh for the love of… Magar, you’re too clever for your own good, you old rascal. I’m Danla Zin, proud Balmorran and member of the resistance against the Empire.” 

Jhonnen’s heart, firmly in his boots, started trying to burrow.

“My husband Magar stole an Imperial uniform. He and some friends were trying to get weapons to help us retake our town.” 

And they’d seen a red sith and they’d fired, made perfect sense. 

“Stole a uniform?” Corso’s eyes were wide, lower lip at risk of trembling. “They weren’t really Imperials?” 

“Free Balmorrans, every one. Did… did anyone survive?” 

Jhonnen shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” 

She looked down and took a deep, steadying breath. 

“I’m really sorry, Ma’am,” Corso said earnestly. “I wish there were better words for it. Is there any way we can make it up to you?” 

“You’re going to think I’m a cold-hearted old battle-ax, but I’ve lost my sons, my parents… death’s no stranger here.” 

Jhonnen closed his eyes like the words were a physical blow. He breathed deep through his nose to steady himself. 

“What we really need are those guns,” Danla said. “Magar risked his life to get them. I hate to think he died for nothing.” 

“Done,” Jhonnen said immediately. “Running guns is something I’m good at.” 

She nodded. “Bring me the guns and I’ll pay fair price for the lot of them.” 

Jhonnen wasn’t going to charge her after accidentally murdering her husband, but the businessman in him kept him from saying it aloud. 

“We’re in hiding behind Imperial lines. Magar’s comm’s got the coordinates.” 

Jhonnen picked up the weapons and was forced to rely on Corso to keep an eye out for wandering patrols as he carried them back out to the speeders. 

Moving through Imperial lines was easier than it ought to have been. The Imps had been stretched thin since Jhonnen’s last visit and while they were trying to knuckle down, more theaters of war meant that reinforcements weren’t getting to Balmorra as fast as the Imps would probably have liked.

It felt _good_ to have cargo again, even if the circumstance was far from ideal. Running guns was something he was familiar with. Sneaking through security was something he enjoyed. 

It felt like clearing his head.

Danla Zin was an older woman, her face lined with age and a life that had been less than kind to her. She stood straight though, looking tired but fierce. Her expression was drawn when it settled on Jhonnen. “So, you’re the ones who killed my Magar? You look younger in person.” 

Jhonnen looked apologetic about that. 

“It can’t have been easy to get these guns here. Thank you. Now, what do I owe you?” 

Jhonnen opened his mouth to comment something about the first one being free when they were interrupted by another older human, male this time. 

“Danla, darling. I just heard the terrible news. It’s a tough time for a woman to be alone out here.” He smiled wolfishly. “But don’t worry. I won’t let anyone take advantage of that.” 

Jhonnen’s hackles raised in an instant but he kept his features blank except to move his lips to a scowl. “This is a private conversation, sir.” 

“I’m Whitat.” The man held himself straighter like this was supposed to mean something. Jhonnen just narrowed his pale grey eyes in return. “This is _my_ town. And those are _my_ guns you’re returning, from _my_ men you killed.” 

“Our _debt_ ,” Corso snapped, “is to the lady.” 

“Aren’t you two sweet,” Whitat clicked his tongue. “But this is my army, not Danla Zin’s. Whatever she’s offering for those munitions, I’ll double it.” 

“Not the way I operate.” Jhonnen said smoothly. “I do the job I’m paid for.” 

“Thank you, boys.” She said. “This is my life’s savings here, I’d match Whitat’s offer if I could.” She whirled around, pulling a gun as she did and pointed it at Whitat’s chest. “Now _you_ move on out. We don’t need you anymore.” 

“What? This is _my_ _town_.” 

“You’re no better than the Imperials! Go see if they’ll have you! We’ll take back Balmorra on our own.” 

“If I had a grandma,” Jhonnen said as Whitat beat a quick retreat. “I’d want her to be like, half as badass as you.” He transferred the credits back. “First one’s free, just remember my name for all your smuggling needs.” He grinned at her but it fell short around the eyes. “Good luck.” 

Danla Zin smiled a little. “Thank you.” 

Back aboard the ship, Jhonnen gave the codes to the EMP Pulsar for Corso to transfer to Ord Mantell and settled in his bunk to reflect on what had been, in truth, a fairly awful day. 

He missed _smuggling_. 

He missed being able to call his mom and bitch about a shitty day. 

Jhonnen curled his pillow to his chest and let the hum of the hyperdrive sing him into a deep and dreamless sleep. 

* * *

“Captain, I hope you took precautions not to be followed,” Dodonna said from the holo. “I must remind you, the very existence of our prison on Belsavis is top secret. Before you go further, you must swear to reveal nothing.” 

Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest and glowered. “I pinky swear.” 

“I’m serious,” Dodonna scowled. “Our security is already compromised by the Empire. We can’t risk word getting to the underworld. A few days ago, our prison here was breached. An Imperial airstrike, apparently coordinated with a massive prison break within. The planet is in chaos. Shock troops are arriving daily to contain it.” 

He had to find someone in the middle of a warzone _and_ a prison revolt? That was going to be _fun_. 

“Help the Republic if you can, but getting Rogun’s location from Ivory must remain your first priority.” Dodonna straightened a little. “I can only authorize you to offer him certain deals—we cannot mitigate Ivory’s sentence.” She produced a list. “If he cooperates, he can have three hours a day in the exercise yards: no company, no sharp objects. A bath once a week, private except for guard droids. If his information leads to Rogun the Butcher’s arrest, he gets a single monitored holocall of his choosing.” 

“I do not think that’s going to be enough to entice this fucker.” 

“It was a fight to even get that,” Dodonna shrugged. “Rogun the Butcher was Ivory’s protege. If Ivory doesn’t give him up, you have permission to be… coercive.” 

Jhonnen scowled harder. 

“I’ve made arrangements with Marshall Cavarat at the Republic base. She’ll be able to help you with anything you need.” 

The holocall ended and Jhonnen took a couple of steps backwards and flopped into a chair. “I don’t want to go to prison.” 

“I know,” Corso said. 

“The idea of a planet prison is fucked up.” 

“I know,” Risha commiserated. 

“The Senator gives me a headache.” 

<< I know, >> Bowdaar warbled. 

“This is—”

“Stop. Whining.” Akaavi growled. 

Jhonnen gave her a reproachful look, but he stopped whining. 

“I’ll go with you to the planet,” Risha gave Jhonnen’s shoulder a small pat. “I speak criminal.” 

“You’re fucking fluent in it.” Jhonnen agreed. Risha was a good choice, mean enough to not be offended if he had to get nasty (honestly, she was more likely to get nasty than he was) but she knew when lying and bribing was most effective. 

She lacked the raw intimidation factor that was Bowdaar, and the ruthless war-mongering that was Akaavi, but she was reliable in her way. 

“Corso, I’m leaving you in charge then,” Jhonnen said. “Don’t take my ship anywhere.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

* * *

Belsavis’s climate reminded him a little bit of Alderaan’s. Very pretty, lots of mountains, snow but not enough of it to keep the plant life down. The view was ruined by the military complex they got dropped into. People ran this way and that, the signs of a crisis everywhere Jhonnen looked. He exhaled and stuck close to Risha, heading for where they were supposed to meet Marshall Cavarat. 

Things had changed with Risha. Jhonnen wasn’t sure how or if it was good or bad, but she seemed less comfortable than usual. 

Maybe it was just the planet, maybe it was the conversation they’d had where they’d agreed to just be friends. 

He hoped whatever it was wasn’t going to get in the way of the job they had to do. 

As they walked, Jhonnen caught himself playing one of his earliest conversations with Corso on loop. _Forts tend to be full of people I prefer to avoid._

Forts. Prisons. Senate offices. 

What Jhonnen _preferred_ seemed to have as much weight as a sneeze in a hurricane. As a backstabber’s promise. 

He forced the tension out of his shoulders, if he let them see him scared he handed them the advantage. Mom had always warned him about that. He was small and easily underestimated, he could use that, but he was also nervous by nature and could never let that be used against him.

“You alright, Jhonnen?” Risha asked. 

Jhonnen gave her a cocky smile, mom would have been proud. “Never been to prison before, not exactly looking forward to it.” 

Risha rolled her eyes but she didn’t press again. 

The Marshall, a human female (didn’t it always seem to be?) of average set and build, was barking orders. Her gaze flicked over Jhonnen and then passed off as she went to attend a terminal. “You’re wasting my time.” 

“I just got here.” 

“We’re in a _crisis_ ,” she said without looking back at him. “There are over ten thousand prisoners running loose; most of the wardens are dead.” She growled. “Senator Dodonna is seriously overstepping herself if she thinks I’m going to drop that to help you offer some madman an extra bedtime story.” 

Jhonnen sighed. “Look, I _also_ think this is stupid but I’ve gotta do it.” 

“Whatever your guy did to land on Belsavis is reason enough to lock him up and wipe the keycode,” Cavarat turned around and handed him a card. “Prisoner number 91403, cell block 923-A. This code’ll get you into his cell. Beyond that, I’m not interested.” She glowered at him. 

Jhonnen tucked the card into one of his numerous pockets. “And which direction is cell block 923-A in?” 

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The cells you’re looking for were damaged in the strike. We’re spread too thin to retake everything, so we threw that lot to the mob. Some prison gang took over, shut down all access.” 

He _should_ have brought Bowdaar if he was fighting through a prison gang. This was supposed to just be dealing with _one guy_. 

“Got a snitch I can talk to?” Jhonnen asked, figuring he was going to need more information than she was able or willing to provide. 

“Amikab, in the minimum security yard. He’s our best snitch.” She turned back to the console. “Now, I’ve got real work to do.” 

“I’ll get out of your hair.” Jhonnen turned and left the same way he’d come in, touching the pocket with the keycard to ensure it was still there. 

“Getting any bright ideas, flyboy?” Risha asked on the elevator. 

“Talk to Amikab, try not to get shivved.” He paused. “Shanked? What _is_ the proper verb for that anyway?” 

“Shanked.” Risha told him. “You shank someone with a shiv. Didn’t your daddy ever teach you that?” 

“My father and I have never spoken, though apparently I look just like him but tiny.” Jhonnen gave her a grin. “Besides, he was more inclined to crush tracheas than to shank anybody.” 

“Sounds like a catch.” 

“Mom sure thought so.” 

They reached the building where Amikab was set up and Jhonnen left Risha outside to stand guard as he went in, hoping that for once things went smoothly. Amikab was a male bith in prisoner’s rags. He looked up, half-startled when Jhonnen swanned into the room. 

“I need to get into cell block 923-A,” Jhonnen said, figuring that straight through was the way around. 

<< And I went and told Jarvey he was seeing things. Jhonnen Leif wouldn’t be here, I says. Not after besting Nok Drayen. But here you are. >>

“Here I am,” Jhonnen confirmed, still a little annoyed about being recognizable. It probably helped that he was bright fucking red and operating mostly in Republic space. 

<< Name’s Amikab. If you just got nicked, you came to the right Bith. I can get you to block 923… for a price. >>

_Naturally_. 

“And that price is?” 

<< Only thing anyone’s looking for—the way off. You get me that, I’ll get you the back door to every half-credit gang hideout on Belsavis. >>

Jhonnen had no idea how he’d pull that off. Getting people _off_ of a planet prison seemed a _little_ beyond his reach. 

Prison planet. 

How fucked up was that?

<< The Scourge is the gang that took block 923, puffed-up sons of hutts. They’ve rerouted the cells’ generators to shield themselves. Call the place their ‘fortress’. >>

“Neat,” Jhonnen said, folding his arms over his chest. “How do I get in?”

<< Without making friends? First you’ve got to shut down their generators. There should be men guarding them, but nothing like what you’ll be facing once you get inside. >>

“‘Preciate it.” 

<< Let me see your datapad—I’ll give you the generator site. They don’t give us access to anything with transmission capability. >>

Jhonnen handed the pad over and watched Amikab work while he talked. 

<< Once you get in, look for the stockpile. The Scourge stash their weapons up front. You reach ‘em before they do and you’re set. >> Amikab handed the pad back. << Now keep in mind who helped you. Anything else you need, I’m the man in the know. >>

“Thanks again,” Jhonnen tucked his datapad away and left the room, joined by Risha in short order. 

“Well he was stupid,” she said, a touch of queenly arrogance in her tone. “Didn’t even ask for assurance.” 

“Yeah.” Jhonnen rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d better see what I can do for him.” 

Sneaking around inmates was a lot like sneaking around guards, Jhonnen learned. He and Risha managed to dodge the worst of the fighting in minimum security and only had to pull their blasters to hit the generators. 

He really _should_ have brought Bowdaar. 

Or Akaavi. Akaavi would have loved this. 

Akaavi would have really loved the lurkers. The amphibious, carnivorous monsters would have been fun to hunt, he guessed.

But he had brought Risha, and Risha was, at least, a very good shot and decent at sneaking. 

Once _inside_ The Scourge’s “Fortress” Jhonnen looted their weapon cache, breaking what he and Risha couldn’t carry and pleased when they found a couple of upgrades to their own gear. 

They proceeded slowly, shooting gangster when they got the chance but otherwise keeping a low profile until they reached Ivory’s cell. 

Which was empty. 

Lovely. 

Jhonnen’s comm buzzed. He produced the device and found a miniaturized version of Marshall Cavarat looking much less pissed off. 

“Saw that the door was opened. Your man Ivory, is he there? You reach him in time?” 

_Why the fuck do you care?_ Jhonnen thought but did not say. “In time?” he asked instead. “As opposed to… too late?” 

“I’ve got alerts in every ward. There’s a new breakout, super-max cells across the planet, places that weren’t touched by the strike.” 

“Neat.” 

“Turns out every one was part of Ivory’s syndicate.” 

“ _Neat_.” Jhonnen only resisted the urge to face-palm because he was holding his comm. This all just got a _lot_ more complicated. 

“He’s gathering his people, Captain. And the worst part is, they’re not going for the surface. They’re heading further in. To the heart of Belsavis.” 

At _that_ Jhonnen just looked puzzled. Open and honestly puzzled. 

“ _Look_ ,” she sighed. “I know there’s secrets down in those vaults way above my clearance. Secrets important enough for the Republic to spend billions to hide and dangerous enough that they keep us marshals up here and send SpecForce to the vaults.” 

Jhonnen’s expression went flat to keep him from demanding an explanation for why anyone would build a _prison_ on top of secrets they were that damn desperate to keep. The Republic was run by a bunch of idiots. Bureaucratic idiots. 

“I can’t start chasing Ivory into I-don’t-even-know-what kind of dangers. But I think you will, and I want to help you.” 

“I really don’t _want_ to,” Jhonnen defended himself. “I don’t want to do any of this.” He groaned. “But I have to so I could use the help.” 

“Search Ivory’s cell for any clue where he might have gone. And call me if you find anything.” 

Jhonnen nodded and hung up the holo. He gave Risha a miserable look and groaned. “You heard the woman.” 

“You have the _worst_ luck, Jhonnen.” 

Jhonnen nodded in agreement and started looking around. 

He found nothing until he sat down on the bed to clear his head for a second, and then he found a bomb. 

Dumb luck and instinct saved him as Jhonnen tucked into a ball to protect his head and organs as he got launched. “Risha!” he shouted over the ringing in his ears. “Risha!” 

“I’m here,” he unfurled and saw her rising to her feet from behind a stack of crates. Jhonnen exhaled with relief and picked himself up. 

The explosion had revealed a hole in the wall, hidden behind the now-mangled bed frames. Jhonnen poked his head in and then checked for more traps before entering the tunnel. The stone was smooth and worn. He exchanged glances with Risha and then fished his holo out of his pocket to call the Marshal back. 

“Hang tight,” she said. “I’m trying to get a fix on your location… I’m just going to zoom in… _son of a bitch._ ” 

Jhonnen nodded his agreement. 

“Look at how smooth that stone is! That’s not new work. Ivory could have been loose in the wards for years.” 

“The Republic is bad at something,” he said in a flat voice. “I am shocked.” 

He expected to get snapped at, the usual chest pounding “Republic forever ooh-rah” bullshit, but Cavarat nodded. “Locking our worst offenders together in a place we don’t even understand? Only a bunch of senators sitting safe on Coruscant could have thought that up.” 

“I agree with you,” Jhonnen said seriously. 

“I do have good news,” Cavarat said with a dim smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ve still got one of Ivory’s collaborators in custody.” She checked a datapad. “Number 91406; female Rattataki; name, ah, Sraja. She’s part of a classified prisoner rehabilitation program not far from here.”

“Sounds educational.” 

“I suggest you find out what she knows… before Ivory makes her disappear. Call me.” 

Cavarat hung up and Jhonnen looked at Risha. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

“A little bruised, flyboy. Nothing to fuss about.” 

* * *

Sraja was a very lovely Rattaki woman and Jhonnen was convinced she was out of her mind. She pulled against the cuffs that held her arms behind her back, arching back like a thing possessed to screech, “Walls cannot hold me! I will join him! He calls me!” 

Jhonnen exhaled and walked into the room, offering a thin lipped smile to Sraja. 

“Are you his? Do you come to cut these chains?” 

Jhonnen blinked. “Uh… yes.” He cleared his throat. “Do you remember where we’re supposed to go?” 

“The cells… are they empty? Is the team complete?” 

Jhonnen nodded. 

“He said after… there is a door. An escape. A stairway to the stars.” Sraja arched back and laughed, her whole body shaking with it. Jhonnen took a step back and turned in time to watch a uniformed officer step into the room, drawn blaster trained on Jhonnen’s chest. 

“This is a restricted area! Step away from the prisoner.” 

“Oh boy.” Jhonnen held his hands up. “This is not _exactly_ what it—” 

“You were right,” the guard said, touching his ear piece. “Positive ID on Jhonnen Leif. Experiment chamber 21.” He nodded. “I’ll hold him.” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Risha and Jhonnen breathed in unison. 

Sraja fell over, a blaster bolt whizzing effortlessly through her head. Jhonnen held himself very still as an Abyssian jumped down from the roof holding a sniper rifle. 

<< Thank you, Officer. >> The abyssian turned to Jhonnen. << Did you think Rogun would let you interfere again? >>

_You had me dead to rights,_ Jhonnen thought, _and you just had to talk it out. Moron_. His eyes hardened. “And how is my little ray of sunshine doing this fine morning?” 

<< Rogun has counted the years until he meets again with Iv—hrk >>

Jhonnen interrupted the monologue by throwing himself forward and to the side, slamming the sole of his foot into the abyssian sniper’s knee to knock him to the ground while Risha pulled her sidearm and shot the guard dead. Jhonnen and the sniper rolled on the ground, Jhonnen keeping on top and pushing the barrel of the gun down to crush the other man’s throat. The noises were not pleasant, but they also didn’t last long. 

Jhonnen shot him in the head just to be safe. 

He stood up, breathing hard, and then stooped to go through both men’s pockets, finding a list of cells in the guard’s. It didn’t mean much to him, but that was what the marshal was for. 

“Sraja was crazy and then someone shot her in the head,” Jhonnen said as Cavarat appeared in his palm. “Upside, I’ve got a lost of what looks like cell blocks and numbers from one of Rogun’s allies.” 

“Send me a transmission. I’ll run a cross-check on the locations. Did you find anything else?” 

“One of your guys was working with Rogun and tried to murder me in the face,” Jhonnen said flatly. “I like my face.” 

“What!? Give me his name and badge— he’s dead, isn’t he?”

“He’s _very_ dead.” Jhonnen clarified. 

Cavarat sighed. “Since the breakout, I’ve suspected there’s a few bad eggs. I’ll look into it.” 

Risha smiled. “My father always said a bitter cop is your best ally.” 

“My mom said not to trust cops,” Jhonnen replied. 

“All right,” Cavarat interrupted. “I’m getting the results. Looks like your list is just the cells Ivory’s collaborators already crack… wait, no. There’s one that still unbreached. Maximum security ward, cell block 2018.” 

“And who lives there?” Jhonnen asked, hoping the name wouldn’t mean anything to him. “Another pal of Ivory’s?” 

“No. No known ties… but he’s a monster all his own. Gen’Dai, Force user, spice addict,” Cavarat shook her head at the list of charges. “Records say he killed Jedi during his arrest.” 

“And no one just killed him?” Jhonnen asked in disbelief.

Cavarat shrugged, to professional to voice _her_ opinion on the matter. “See if you can get to him because Ivory does. Find out how he ties into the plan. And call me when you’re done.” 

“Will do.” Jhonnen hung up. He looked at Risha. “I lead a charmed life.” 

Risha’s smile was cruel but her eyes were fond. “That’s one way to put it flyboy. Remind me why I didn’t stay on the ship?” 

“Hey, you _volunteered_.” 

“You’re bad for my survival instinct.”

“But great for your bank account.” Jhonnen grinned. “I’m also easy on the eyes.” 

Risha laughed. “Don’t push it.” 

* * *

Getting _to_ cell block 2018 was easy. Getting _through_ it proved to be much trickier. Ivory’s men littered the block like garbage on a Nar Shaddaan street. Which made it a job for grenades. Jhonnen rolled one down the hallway, tucking himself and Risha safely behind cover, and waited for the bang. 

Sure, the whole block was now on high alert, but realistically they weren’t going to be sneaking through this level of activity _anyway_. 

Jhonnen missed Bowdaar. 

They made it to the cell in question just in time to watch two of Ivory’s thugs work to slice into the Gen’Dai’s cell, directed over holo by the big man himself. 

Ivory was a slender Rattataki male who spoke in an icy, controlled manner. He looked over as Jhonnen got close. “The one the Republic sent is here.” 

Both thugs stopped what they were doing. 

Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve been authorized to cut you a deal in exchange for information about Rogun.” Jhonnen tried not to think about how it was a really shitty deal. 

Ivory actually laughed. More of a cackle really. “My heart _leaps_. Pray, what do they offer? My own vidscreen? Rehabilitation on Coruscant with a house-arrest collar?” 

_Actually,_ thought Jhonnen, _those would be way better_. 

“The Republic cannot stop me. They hide behind sealed doors and force fields while I explore the treasures of this world.” 

<< You want that I kill him, boss? >> the gamorrean henchman grunted. 

<< Gonna be me this time, Squarg. >> buzzed the Genosian. << Whatcha wanna bet? Lay that shirt on the line? How about the boots? >>

“They cannot even track their prisoners, while I have mastered the secrets of a race that once ruled the galaxy.” 

Jhonnen had to admit that Ivory had a point. The Republic probably couldn’t find their ass with both hands, but Jhonnen was also a _little_ tired of the crazy villain monologue. 

“Neat.” 

“You are a man who prefers action to contemplation,” observed Ivory, not necessarily inaccurately. “You could not grasp the workings of a machine more ancient than half the stars in our sky. The Empire only found this forgotten world when I called them—on the transmitter abandoned millennia ago by the creators of Belsavis.” 

“ _Neat_.” 

“Be careful,” Risha said softly. “Ivory is known for a lot of things, but bluffing wasn’t one of them.” 

“Of course not,” Jhonnen sighed. “That would have been _easy_.” 

“Squarg, Buzz, take care of this distraction. Meet us later. At the ship.” Ivory clicked off the holoterminal and the gamorrean—Squarg probably—stuck a finger in Jhonnen’s chest. 

<< I’m gonna feed you your guts. >>

<< Subtlety isn’t Squarg’s strong suit, >> buzzed Buzz. 

<< You say Squarg not strong? I crush you, little bug!>>

Jhonnen’s eyes widened as the universe handed him a gift in the form of bickering henchmen. 

<< And then I climb out the gaping hole where your brain should be! >>

“Don’t let him talk to you like that,” Jhonnen contributed, hand moving a half-inch closer to his blaster. 

<< Yeah! You shut your mouth you—you bug-head!>>

<< I’m sorry. Are you— >>

Jhonnen and Risha fired and Buzz and Squag dropped dead. Jhonnen kicked Squarg’s foot to be sure. “That was handy.” 

“Mhm,” Risha nodded. 

Jhonnen pulled his holo out of a pocket after making sure that the Gen’Dai was still sealed safely away. 

“Captain! Thank goodness you called!” 

“That sounds bad.” 

“The warden droids are going crazy. They’re reporting life signs and breaches in the innermost defenses. Our troops in the area are under heavy fire from an unknown species. They can’t respond.” 

“Ivory’s heading for the vaults and babbling about god machines,” Jhonnen contributed. 

Cavarat exhaled. “I can’t do anything here if the Republic doesn’t trust me. I pulled some files above my clearance, searching for the breach.” She shook head head. “What I saw… I don’t think we were the first ones on this planet.”

“Soooo god machines. Great.”

“All I know is that the breach is at vault 806—a vault that pre-dates the Republic’s landfall. It’s marked top secret, never-to-be-opened, off-limits even to military researchers. If you think Ivory’s going there, you’d better follow. Fast.” 

“Roger that.” Jhonnen clicked his comm off. “We never go anywhere nice.” 

“Mm,” Risha said. 

“Also, if there are vaults that pre-date the Republic I would think it’s _a little fucking obvious_ that they weren’t the first ones here.” 

“Simmer down there, Flyboy.” 

“Mrr.” 

* * *

Jhonnen stared at the sparking pyramid that was _apparently_ the only way into the core. He stared like it was going to bite him. 

“Let’s move,” Risha gave him a little nudge. 

Jhonnen looked at her reproachfully. 

He touched the pyramid. 

And was somewhere else. 

He heard a crack and looked over his shoulder to where Risha was suddenly standing, shaking her head like there was water in her ears. 

“Let’s hope getting _back_ is that simple,” Jhonnen said with a wry attempt at a smile. 

Risha looked unamused. 

Jhonnen shrugged. “Come on, let’s find Ivory and end this.” 

Moving from the narrow stone corridor where the teleportation device was, Jhonnen had to work to not be awed by the sight in front of him. It looked like they were both in a cave and ontop of a mountain. A thick powder of snow covered the ground and Jhonnen shivered. The structures were alien, intricately carved and very… square.

They fought and snuck their way through the ancient droids and monsters until they found Ivory. 

Ivory, being inhospitable, chucked a thermal detonator at them and for once, Jhonnen found himself on the wrong end of a blaster to the face. He rose slowly to standing, eyes on the weapon in front of him and hands peaceably splayed out. 

_Well, fuck_. 

Ivory opened his mouth to say something that was probably derisive and was cut off by laughter. Familiar laughter. 

The abyssian sniper from earlier uncloaked, his gun pointed somewhere between Jhonnen, Risha and Ivory. 

“Didn’t I kill you?” Jhonnen asked, remembering throttling the man with his own gun and then popping him several times in the head. 

The abyssian laughed. << I’m Rogun’s best—you think a few shots to the head can stop me? Now my brothers who were sentenced here add their strength to my own. >>

More abyssians uncloaked, surrounding Ivory, Risha and Jhonnen in a tight ring that did nothing to steady his nerves. 

<< We will finish you. And we will finish Ivory. Rogun will be pleased. >>

Jhonnen blinked. “Wait. Him too?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Ivory said simply. 

Jhonnen frowned. 

<< Rogun was a fool to send you here instead of kill you. Now I’m going to finish the job. >>

Jhonnen was going to _kill_ Dodonna. She hadn’t even gotten the base information right and now he was going to die. He was going to die looking like an idiot. Well, like _more_ of an idiot. It was intolerable. 

“You have made it here,” Ivory said, sounding almost bored but keeping his eyes on the weapons pointed at his face. “For that reason alone I must respect you. Do you still wish to deal?” 

“Yes.” Jhonnen said, figuring that it didn’t matter. “What can you give me?” 

“Rogun has a safe house on Tatooine, along with at least twelve other planets that I know of. This vault holds an escape vessel, abandoned here by the race who built this planet. It is the only way off without Republic aid.” Ivory’s voice took on a desperate, feverish note. “Let us be partners. Help me launch the craft and defeat this rabble, and together we can reclaim what Rogun stole from me.” 

<< Neve— >> the abyssian sniper’s declaration was cut off by a violent burst from one of the crates nearby as Ivory depressed a button. 

The man liked his explosives. 

Several other small bursts scattered the abyssians and gave Jhonnen and Risha time to arm themselves. Jhonnen shot the sniper in the gut, grateful that he was a quickdraw. When the dust settled and all the abyssians were dead, he shot enough holes in the sniper’s face to turn it to jelly and then turned to face Ivory. 

He could not, would not, loose that man on the galaxy again. Regardless of how much it would piss Dodonna off. 

“Enough,” Ivory said. “The Republic has taken much from me. It’s time to hand off the crown. Let me serve you. Together, we can destroy Rogun and retake my empire… in your name.” Ivory’s smile was slick and venomous. “With your skills and the knowledge of my years, no one will stand against us.” 

Even if he’d been interested, there was no way to trust Ivory. The man would shoot him as soon as he got a chance. 

“You literally sold children to the Hutts, as someone who was a child once, I can’t take that lying down.” Jhonnen could feel Risha glaring a hole in the back of his head. “But at least if you help me take down Rogun you know he’s either rotting in here with you or, and this is far more likely, I’ve murdered him directly in the face.” 

Ivory scowled, but relented. “Fine. If I am to rot here, let him do the same. Rogun is still using our same network of secret bases, I will send you the coordinates when you have delivered me safely to Republic custody.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Go ahead, call your _handler_. Tell her you’ve fetched as ordered and deserve your bone.” 

“At least I’m a good boy,” Jhonnen shrugged unable to actually argue. He produced his comm and called Cavarat.

“Captain,” she looked surprised to see him. “I wasn’t sure commlinks would work that far in. Is… you have Ivory in custody?” She looked surprised and it was just the littlest bit insulting. 

“Nope, just missed the dulcet sound of your voice.” He rolled his eyes. “Can you send anyone to take him off my hands?” 

“Of course, I’m sure someone can spare a few men to pull this thorn from our side. Look me up when you get back to base, Captain. I have a feeling there’s more to this story.” 

* * *

Cavarat looked actually happy to see him. “I just heard from Commander Skylast that a unit of his troops apprehended Ivory.” 

“Apprehended makes it sound like _they_ did the work.” Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “Ivory wasn’t even armed.” Mostly because Jhonnen now had Ivory’s pistol. 

“Apparently they did find some kind of alien escape craft in the vault with him and are in the process of disassembling it.” She smiled. “Good work, Captain. I was wrong about you.” 

“I am such a good boy,” Jhonnen said, mocking himself. “It’s the face isn’t it, I look shifty?” 

Risha laughed. “You have no idea.” 

“You look like the kind of guy you only bring home in handcuffs,” said Cavarat with a shrug. 

Jhonnen laughed. “Kinky.” 

She shook her head, blushing a little. “But thanks for your help with Ivory. I wish you and Senator Dodonna luck with whatever you’re trying.” 

Jhonnen smiled at her and then took his leave, heading back out into the Belsavis sun with Risha. 

“So why turn your nose up at Ivory’s deal?” Risha asked. “You’re not _that_ sparkling clean.” 

“Couldn’t trust him,” Jhonnen said honestly. “And I’ve got enough trust issues as it is.” 

She frowned a little, mouth turned into a delicate jab. “All this time and you still don’t trust me, Jhonnen?” 

“I trust you well enough, Rish, wouldn’t leave the _Tick_ in your hands if I didn’t.” 

But _well enough_ was not _a lot_. He trusted Risha to do what was best for Risha at all times, and he respected that level of practicality. 

But it made her hard to rely on. 

His thoughts turned to Kira once more as they boarded the shuttle. Kira had been fiercely loyal to the people she dictated as being _hers_. Loyal and tough and friendly, wrapped up in layers upon layers of baggy clothes to make herself look bigger and meaner than she was. 

Again, Jhonnen considered that she should have been there, with him. This was supposed to be _their_ adventure, not just _his_. 

“Flyboy?” 

“Just thinking Rish, just thinking.” 

 

* * *

Jhonnen stared balefully at the holoterminal and considered just… not. Not reporting in. Not dealing with the headache that was Dodonna. Not dealing with the headache that was Darmas. Just… not. 

“They’ll hunt you to the end of the galaxy,” Corso said, apparently sensing Jhonnen’s thought process. “‘Sides, we did good.” 

Jhonnen grumbled and pushed the button, plastering a fake smile on his mouth when Senator Dodonna answered. 

“Captain!” she said happily. “Marshall Cavarat just told me you apparently single-handedly recaptured Ivory and put half the Imperial presence in the prison to rest.” 

It was a _fuck_ of an exaggeration, but Jhonnen wasn’t about to correct it. 

“But did Ivory _tell_ you anything?” Darmas cut in, flickering into Dodonna’s place. “Helping the Republic recapture prisoners they couldn’t hold in the first place wasn’t really the point.” 

“Ivory talked,” Jhonnen said. “I’m the proud owner of a list of bolt-holes.” 

“Excellent,” said Dodonna. 

“Send over whatever Ivory gave you.” Darmas said, producing a datapad. “I’ll see if I recognize anything.” He looked over the list as soon as Jhonnen sent it. “Nothing’s ringing any bells. I’ll dig a little further.” 

“Neat.” Jhonnen nodded. 

“In the _meantime_ , Captain,” Dodonna once more dominated the holo. “I’ll work on those permits you need to land on Voss. I haven’t slept a night since those awful beasts attacked.” 

Jhonnen sighed.

Corso tapped him on the shoulder. “Better get off the holo, distress signal coming in.” 

Jhonnen clicked off the holoterminal without so much as a goodbye. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” 


	16. Ice World 2: Bigger Badder Faster Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen returns to Hoth to rescue an SIS agent trapped by the Voidwolf's lackeys. The Risha-romance gets nipped again.

The distress call was coming from a beautiful togruta female wearing lightsabers, which made the fact that she was calling in distress… really fucking weird. 

“What’s the problem?” Jhonnen asked. “How can I help?” 

“How refreshing,” said the togruta, who did not appear to be in a whole lot of distress. “The whole ‘I’m honored to serve you, revered Master’ does get tiresome.” 

Jhonnen lifted his brow. 

“Master Sumalee.” She touched her chest to introduce herself. “I’ve been following your career.” 

_Damn it_ , Jhonnen thought, _now there’s a jedi on my ass?_

According to Jhonnen’s mother, the jedi were on some manner of crusade to wipe out purebloods such as himself. That made this holocall _particularly_ disquieting. Anti-crime, anti-lying, and anti-red sith all in one neat and serene little package. 

“I hear you have a special interest in the Voidwolf.” 

“Eh, wouldn’t go that far. It seems to be a one-sided thing and it’s mostly on his end.” Jhonnen shrugged, pushing his anxiety to the side. Force Users could _smell_ fear. 

“Yes, from our surveillance he seems to have made you a particular target.” 

“And here _I_ thought when you joined the temple, you were done chasing street scum. Welcome back,” said Risha, drier than a hot day on Tatooine. 

“We’re at war. We all serve how we know best.” 

Jhonnen swiveled his head around to look at where Risha was leaning against the far wall. “Friend of yours, Rish?” 

“Not a story I’m interested in telling.” Risha folded her arms over her chest. Jhonnen therefore assumed it was another girlfriend. “She is who she says. Let’s leave it at that.” 

“We’re not born to the robes, Captain,” Sumalee said. “The Force sometimes picks unlikely candidates.” She turned her attention to Risha. “Risha, do you remember Shariss Kartur?” 

“What’d they used to call us?” Risha pushed off the wall, a lilt in her words. “‘The triple threat’? Didn’t she join SIS?” 

Sumalee nodded. “One of their top agents. When you took out the White Maw’s cloaking abilities on Hoth, it drew the Voidwolf’s attention. He went there… and Shariss followed.” 

“ _Alone_?” Risha shook her head, angry and surprised and trying to be neither all at once. “Is she crazy?” 

“The Republic sent an entire platoon of troopers to escort her. The Voidwolf’s assassins killed them all. She is alive, but trapped on Hoth.” 

“No one deserves that,” Jhonnen said, remembering Hoth bitterly. He looked at Risha. “Of course we’ll go rescue your friend. Ex-friend. Ex. Whatever she is.” 

Risha gave him the smallest of smiles. 

“When I got Shariss’s distress call, she had taken refuge in one of the Voidwolf’s private vaults,” Sumalee said as she sent coordinates. “Go quickly if you can. I fear you’re Shariss’s last hope.” 

The holo went dead and Jhonnen looked at Risha. “Dress warm.” 

“Got it.” 

He went to plug their destination into the astrogation chart, pausing mid-step to turn to look at Risha. “So… Sumalee. Is she one of the ‘all red sith must die’ jedi or a different, mellower version?” 

“Genocide never seemed her bag.” 

“Good,” Jhonnen nodded distractedly. “Good.” 

* * *

Akaavi paid him a compliment at dinner and Jhonnen about shit himself, coughing out a lungful of food and generally looking like an idiot. She gave him a disdainful smile and rolled her eyes.

“No,” he said, clearing his lungs. “You were right the first time. I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

“I have been studying your moves for some time now.” Akaavi pointed out, not to be dissuaded. “I have thought of incorporating some of your… tricks… into my own repertoire. It would certainly earn me the edge of surprise should I be among Mandalorians again.” 

“That is true,” Jhonnen said, wiping his mouth with his thumb. “Thanks, Akaavi.” 

“Hmm,” she said and stalked off to eat by herself. Jhonnen looked to Corso for help. Corso just shrugged. 

Guss came in next and slid into the seat nearest Corso after grabbing his plate. “So I’ve been trying to look more intimidating with the lightsaber,” Guss said into his plate. “I mean, it’s about as much use to me in a fight as a glow-in-the-dark belt buckle, but I figure if I wave it around, maybe it’ll scare people off.” 

“That’s basically the principle behind my Imperial accent,” Jhonnen said, nodding his agreement. 

“You know it’s the only lightsaber we had in the whole enclave?” Guss said, prodding the bantha meat with his fork. “I wasn’t in the Jedi Academy proper—never made it that far. My master ran a recruitment center on Nar Shaddaa. I don’t think he had the guts to actually bring me out in public.” 

Jhonnen remembered that place, he’d worked to keep Kira away from it, scared that the jedi would take her and take away all the things that made her great. Her humor, her fierceness. He couldn’t imagine Kira Carsen contentedly meditating and his mom had always warned him about the Jedi. 

“Unhappy memories?” 

Guss shrugged. “It was a step up from prison.” 

* * *

“You probably think I’m chasing Dubrillon’s throne to get rich, don’t you?” Risha said as they boarded the shuttle that would take them down to Hoth’s surface.

“The day I assume you have less than three motives about a thing is the day Corso gets to loot my corpse.” Jhonnen gave her a smile. “You’re a complicated woman.” 

“You think I’m complicated. But in a good way, right?” She studied him. “Because I am. Complicated.” She sighed and knocked her head back against the seat. “I’ve seen what bad leadership does to a place. Alderaan… Nar Shaddaa… even Coruscant. They all suffer because of who’s in power.” She looked back at him. “I’m not looking to plunder Dubrillion. I want to make it better. Run their society the right way.” 

_The Right Way_ was open to interpretation, but Jhonnen didn’t feel the need to point that out. He suspected, but _would not say,_ that this was all because Risha wanted a home. She’d been drifting since she was eleven. She needed something solid and the solid thing she’d been told all her life to chase was Dubrillion. It wasn’t _her world_ , not yet, as far as he knew she’d never been there. 

She just needed something to call her own. 

Risha would shoot him for thinking it though. 

“From what I’ve heard, Dubrillion could use someone decent in charge.” He offered instead. _What he’d heard_ had all been from Risha, but it was the thought that counted. 

“Never thought of myself as _decent_ before.” Risha smiled a little. “Maybe I can sell that. Every successful leader has the same strength: they’re perceived as generous by their subjects. Give the people just enough of what the want, and they’ll leave you alone. That’s something the king of Dubrillion doesn’t understand.” 

“You’re an incredibly cynical woman, Rish.” 

“I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking,” Risha said as the shuttle landed. “Nothing wrong with that.” 

“I guess not,” Jhonnen said, stepping out of the shuttle and immediately shivering. “C’mon, let’s find your friend before the wampas get us.” 

A little gunplay and a lot of stealth got them into the cave the Voidwolf was using as a vault. Jhonnen helped himself to some supplies while they moved, filling his pockets with things that would either sell well or be personally useful. He encouraged Risha to do the same. 

The droids were the biggest problem, their sensors made sneaking past them impossible, but Jhonnen knew how to aim for exposed circuits and paralyze them without triggering an explosion. Explosions in ice caves tended to end _very_ badly. 

They found Shariss (a very pretty mirialan woman, all of Risha’s friends were apparently gorgeous, go figure) and Jhonnen gave her a wave. 

“Risha?” she looked surprised. “I thought that sounded like you! Did you finally decide to join us on the straight and narrow?” 

Jhonnen bit back a laugh and almost choked on it. 

“Hardly,” Risha said dryly. “But I figured it’s just like you to go to ground in the enemy’s treasury.” 

“I figured it was the last place his bloodhounds would go sniffing.” 

“Void _wolf,_ blood _hounds_ ,” Jhonnen chuckled a little. “Anyway, let’s get the fuck out of here, it’s cold.” 

“It’s not that easy. He’s got his fingers in the Republic now.” Shariss shook her head. “The Voidwolf’s been recruiting. He’s courting Hutts, the White Maw, hitmen for hire. Anyone who won’t pledge loyalty goes to hard vacuum.” 

“Ouch.” Jhonnen winced. 

“ _And_ he’s got enough spies in our space station that my cover was blown the minute I landed.” She frowned. “What do you think? Is there a way you can smuggle me up without any of his people, or _our_ people, catching wise?” 

“Smuggling things without either the Empire or the Republic knowing about it is sort of my strong suit.” Jhonnen gave her a grin. “And we’re on a lifeless ice ball. I actually have this one in the bag.” 

“Ah, now I see where Risha found you.” 

“You wouldn’t even imagine,” Risha shook her head as she said it. 

Shariss showed them to an automated shuttle jam packed with goodies. Imperial droids, records, artifacts, the works. “I was going to hide in there.” 

“Good call.” 

“Go to the space station and get security to let us through, and you’re welcome to keep everything in it.” She gave him a wry smile. “I trust you an come up with a story to explain why you’re shipping Imperial droids off Hoth?” 

“Already working on it.”

* * *

It was less of a cover story and more of a bribe but Jhonnen got the clearance they needed and waited for Shariss, feeling good about helping someone out of a tight spot and about the extra loot that would soon be filling his cargo hold. There were buyers for all sorts of crap and Hutts never turned their noses up at more droids. 

“Neatly done,” Shariss said as the shuttle door opened. “I’ll reimburse you the bribe of course.” 

Jhonnen looked at the stuff he’d picked up. “You already ha—”

Risha elbowed him. 

“I mean, thanks. That’d be super.” 

“This one’s a keeper, Risha,” Shariss said. Risha gave a non-commital shrug. “I’ll make sure you get anything I learn about the Voidwolf.” 

“‘Preciate it.” Jhonnen watched her leave, heading for her own ship a few hangars down, and smiled at Risha. “I love it when things _actually_ go well.” 

“You worried about what she said, the Voidwolf having spies in the Republic?” 

“Everyone has spies everywhere. As long as he doesn’t have one on my ship, I’m not really in a position to worry about it.” 

“That’s reckless and stupid, Jhonnen.” 

“A _lot_ of what I do is reckless and stupid.” He noted her expression and adopted a more serious tone. “You want the truth? I’m terrified. I’ve got a Senator up my ass flying me into harm’s way. I’ve got Darmas who’s as slippery as they come and the fact is that whoever’s feeding _them_ information might well be working for a man who wants me in particular very dead.” He frowned. “So I can panic on my own time, but right now if I don’t keep one step ahead of everything else we’re all going to be tasting vacuum.” 

“Just as long as you’re taking it seriously.” 

“I am, Risha. I promise.” They reached the airlock to the ship. “But if I act worried it’ll set everyone else on edge and that is trouble I do not need.”

They entered the ship and Jhonnen headed for the holoterminal to call Sumalee. He smiled up at her. “And we’re good. Shariss is safe.” 

Sumalee relaxed, showing more expression than Jhonnen thought Jedi were allowed. “I admit, I was wondering what to think of Senator Dodonna’s pet project. _But_ , you saved a life here and aided the war. I can say nothing but _thank you_.” 

“Happy to help,” Jhonnen said, and meant it. He waited for the _but_ that implied more heroics would be required, but Sumalee just turned her attention to Risha. 

“Perhaps we’ll catch up again some time, Risha.” 

“Not sure my current occupation will bring me anywhere near the Jedi Temple,” Risha said. “But maybe.” 

“Your current occupation had _better_ not bring you anywhere near the Jedi Temple,” Jhonnen muttered to himself. 

Sumalee caught it and smiled a little. “I hope this war ends swiftly enough that I will not have cause to call on you again.” She disconnected the call. 

“Set course for Voss then?” Risha said. “The permits from Dodonna just came through.” 

“Hooray,” Jhonnen said, utterly lacking in enthusiasm with his shoulders beginning to slump. “Nightmare creatures.” 

“You were so happy a minute ago.” 

“For a minute I forgot about the Senator.” Jhonnen stretched. “Yeah, I’ll go lay in the course.” 

“I took the liberty of looking into the place,” Risha said, following him to the helm with her long coat billowing behind her. “Weird planet. Just made contact with the rest of the galaxy after a Sith ship crashed there. _Apparently_ —” Jhonnen dropped into his captain’s seat “—the whole planet’s on the leash to some cult of Force-users. Empire and Republic are both playing along. This’ll be one to wear your best shirt and remember to say ‘please’.” 

“Sounds fun,” Jhonnen sighed. “I love doing laundry.”

Risha settled into the co-pilot’s seat and studied Jhonnen’s face carefully, turning away when he turned to ask her about it. 

“I’ve been thinking about our decision to keep things casual,” Risha said as Jhonnen opened his mouth. “Thought I’d make sure you’re still alright with it.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Yeah, of course.” She wasn’t interested and even if she was there were enough unknowns on either side to keep them both wary. Jhonnen couldn’t trust her to do anything but what was best for _her_. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes Beryl had and assume that fucking would change any part of Risha’s character.

Which meant it made more sense not to fuck. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“I’m just open to… course-correction.” Risha gave him a small smile. “It could be years before I’m on Dubrillion’s throne. Seems a shame to limit my options in the here and now.” 

_Really_? Jhonnen thought. _Really?_

He sighed.

“You seem to know what I like. Heard of any _opportunities_ I should explore?” 

“You’ll have to be a little more specific.” 

“Someone cool under pressure, but quick on the draw. Who understands business and knows how to take care of it. Ring any bells?” 

Jhonnen started to shake his head and then noticed the flirty turn of her mouth. 

He was tempted, but his every instinct warned him against it. Risha would sell him out to save herself and he respected that. She was mean as they came, but he had a thick enough skin that it didn’t get to him the way it might have otherwise. 

But half the time she didn’t even seem to like him and he wasn’t going to walk that line. Either someone wanted to be with him or they didn’t. 

Maybe she was just horny. Horny happened and it would be a hot day on Hoth before she expended that energy with Corso, Akaavi or Guss. 

“I’ll see what I can find,” Jhonnen promised. “But seriously, if you’re just looking for a quick spin, I know very reputable business people.” 

Risha frowned. 

“I’m serious.”

She sighed. “I suppose we should get back to letting people shoot at us.” 

“Probs,” Jhonnen agreed. He turned as Risha stood up and let his shoulders relax. “Look, Rish, I’ll think about it,” He offered. 

Her smile returned, just a little. “Don’t take too long.” 


	17. Someone Else Can Be Bitter, I'll Be Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen attends to the problem on Voss and is reunited with someone very special from his past.
> 
> This Chapter ties in to [Sunspots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126018/chapters/11793992) by the marvelous [Inkspot_Fox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkspot_fox/pseuds/inkspot_fox)

“Senator,” Jhonnen said to the holo as it flicked on. “I’m heading to Voss now. What should I know?” 

“I’m glad you made it. I’m still having nightmares about those awful creatures Rogun sent to attack me.” 

Jhonnen gave a faux-sympathetic nod. 

“It won’t be easy to find out who he’s working with here,” Dodonna put her hands on her hips. “We barely have diplomatic relations with the Voss.”

“I’ll be extra charming then.” He gave her a dazzling grin, all pointy white teeth, that he couldn’t even pretend to feel.

“From what I hear, the Voss are big on propriety and obedience. I don’t think you’re their type.” Dodonna actually managed a smile when she said it. “Voss was only discovered a few years ago, and promptly handed the Empire its head when it tried to attack. The Republic’s desperate to get them as allies.” 

“Good for them,” Jhonnen said. He didn’t even muster the pretense of a fuck to give. 

“The Voss have made it clear”—she narrowed her eyes—“break _one law_ and the entire Republic can be thrown off this world.” 

“Fortunately I am an upstanding member of the Republic.” Jhonnen crossed his arms and rested his weight on his back foot. Sending him, if it was that big a deal, was a fucking mistake. One a senator—regardless of nightmare fuel—ought to know better than to make. 

He could only imagine how much more complicated his life would get if he fucked up the entire Republic’s diplomatic endeavors. 

“I was almost afraid to say this, in case you took it as a challenge.” Dodonna scowled. “I’ve arranged for a native guide—a diplomat named Lokir-Ka. He’ll be waiting in a private room off the shuttle bay. I sent him files on the beasts that attacked me. I hope he can help you track who sold them.” 

Jhonnen waited until the terminal was dead before hollering for Corso. 

“Yeah?” Corso came around the corner with a sandwich in one hand and a confused expression.

“I need to put that harmless good ol’ boy charm to work,” Jhonnen sighed. “You’re going with me to the surface because you’re more generally likable than everyone else. No offense to anyone. _Everyone else_ ,” he looked around at the rest of the crew who had been summoned when he shouted for Corso, “stay here and try not to get us thrown offworld.” 

There were general murmurs of consent. 

Corso finished his sandwich and followed Jhonnen out onto the space station.

The Voss orbital station was mostly empty, which made the giant pureblood sith stand out. Jhonnen stopped walking and stared at him. The man was colossal and out of place in his gleaming black armor and cloak. He practically had a sign reading “SITH” across his forehead. 

“Did we dock with the right orbital?” Jhonnen asked Corso, gesturing to the sith in question with his chin.

Corso had opened his mouth to say something when Jhonnen stopped listening abruptly.

“Do you have to loom?” someone scoffed. 

Jhonnen’s eyes went wide. The voice, feminine and warm, carried across the almost-empty orbital to sit in his ears and he started forward, towards the giant pureblood, with disbelief on his face and hope weighing heavy in his heart. 

“Kira?” He tried not to shout the name but it came out louder than he’d intended, the “k” catching on the tips of his pointy teeth. 

She turned around when her name was spoken. Kira Carsen—a little older and wearing fewer layers but definitely still herself—stared at him, her eyes went wide. “Red?!” 

Jhonnen didn’t care that Corso was standing confused behind him. He didn’t care about the towering red sith behind Kira or the dark skinned human in the purple robes to Kira’s right.

He didn’t care that they might have docked with the wrong orbital. 

He cared about Kira. That after six years she was standing in front of him as plain as day. 

“Impy!” He was almost surprised at himself, expecting the lingering fear from the last time he’d seen her. If he closed his eyes he remembered her, gore-slick with a hard smile on her mouth, but none of that mattered. It bubbled away like the last traces of nightmare in the steam of his morning caf. “Holy fuck have I missed you!” 

Kira looked surprised, a little laugh bubbling out of her mouth. “You have? Even after—” 

“When I was good I tried to find you to apologize. All I was told was that you’d gotten arrested, and the reports around that were _vague_ ,” Jhonnen said. Where had she been? What had she been up to? Was she sith now? Had he wandered onto the wrong orbital station? “I was wrong to bail on you. I’ve regretted it since.” 

“I didn’t get _arrested_ ,” Kira said, one hand on her hip, eyes still fixed on his. “I got the chance to become a Jedi.” 

Jhonnen’s brain tripped and fell. So not a sith lord then. _Good_. 

“You’re a _what_?” He took her in again, the long pale dress, the saberstaff hilt on her hip. She didn’t seem _serene_ enough to be a jedi. She seemed like… Kira. Smirking, bold as brass hard as nails Kira. Just Kira. He wanted to crush her against him but after six years and the way things had ended it didn’t feel appropriate.

Also he was pretty sure jedi didn’t do hugs. 

Kira shrugged. “Turns out that if you try and steal a jedi’s hyperdrive and you’ve got a knack with the Force they recruit you.” 

Jhonnen laughed. “There is a _lot_ to unpack in that sentence, Kira.” 

“You haven’t heard the half of it, Red.” Kira’s eyes slid off of him to the man at her side. “This is Katsulas, my friend and mentor. Kat, this is Jhonnen, my—” However she was going to describe him, Kira stopped. She shook her head. “We were close.” 

Jhonnen, wondering what she’d been about to say, gave a small wave to the purple-clad jedi at Kira’s side. 

“We do not have time for this,” the sith lord (what was a sith lord doing with a couple of jedi?) growled. 

Kat looked up at him and his shoulders fell a little. “Scourge is right, Kira.” He looked at Jhonnen. “It’s nice to meet you but…” 

Kira frowned. 

“Here’s my holo.” Jhonnen sent it over. “Call me, just, whenever.” His heart was still racing. Kira sent her frequency in response. 

She gave him a long, lingering look and a hopeful smile before turning and following Kat and Scourge (apparently) to the shuttle, leaving Jhonnen standing there with his legs made of water and his heart thundering. 

“You alright, Jhonnen?” Corso asked, a laugh on the edge of his voice. “You look like someone ‘bout ran you down with a juggling rancor.” 

Jhonnen shook his head, still watching Kira go. “I am happy, earnestly happy, for the first time in a long time.” Maybe since his mother had died. 

“Who was she? Never seen you look so…” Corso just gestured at all of him to get the point across and Jhonnen laughed. 

“That was my best friend growing up,” Jhonnen admitted freely.

“You didn’t even look that happy about Qeno.” 

“I was not in love with Qeno,” Jhonnen explained, clearing his throat. “I think I might have been in love with Kira.” 

“Maybe ol Doc could tell her that.” 

Jhonnen blinked and fixed his gaze on a man he had thought unrelated to the Kira situation because he’d been busy with a datapad a short distance away. 

“Please don’t,” Jhonnen said, standing a little straighter. “She’s a jedi and I really don’t want to make things weird after we’ve just reconnected.” 

“She’s not a _great_ jedi,” ‘Doc’ said. 

This was not _surprise_ but it did kindle a treacherous flame of hope in Jhonnen’s chest. He didn’t like hoping for things. It usually ended badly, frequently with blaster fire. 

He got shot at _a lot_. 

“So how do you know her?” Jhonnen asked. 

“Doc” was a human male on the taller side of average with… unfortunate black facial hair. 

“We’re on the same crew,” Doc said. “I’m Kira’s physician.” 

Jhonnen cracked a dumb smile. “Know anything a jedi might need smuggled?” 

“As a matter of fact”—Doc’s smile grew wider—“I might. I have some things that I need, a few bits and bobs to help save the galaxy. Could give you a chance to see her again.” 

“And that would be worth the discount you’re angling for,” Jhonnen said. “Here’s my holo, keep me posted.” 

Corso stared at him long enough that he had to actually jog to keep up when Jhonnen started for the shuttle. 

“Risha’s not gonna take this well,” Corso said, folding his arms over his chest. “And that Doc character’s no good.”

“There’s nothing between Risha and I because Risha didn’t _want_ anything between us,” Jhonnen pointed out. “And I’m mostly just… look, the feelings I’ve got for Kira are six years cold, I don’t even know if she’s the same person and she’s a jedi to boot. But she was my _best_ friend. I want that friendship back, Corso. I want it bad.” He paused. “And what, you know him?” 

“He was the medic back on Balmorra.” Corso frowned. “A real womanizing sleaze-bag. You sure your lady friend’s safe with him?” 

“Given as she’s an all-powerful jedi who’s been kicking ass and taking names since she was ten? Yes. I think Kira has this in the bag.”

“So we’re actually going to smuggle things to a Jedi’s ship just so you can see a girl again?” 

“Yes, Corso.” Jhonnen looked over the list Doc had sent as he walked towards the shuttle that would take them down to the surface. “Yes we are.” 

“That’s sweet, Jhonnen.” 

“Thanks, your rousing endorsement means the world to me.” 

* * *

Jhonnen almost didn’t notice how _pretty_ Voss was. Everything was done in rich warm golds and reds and _holy shit he had Kira’s holo!_ He could have skipped into the building where he was supposed to meet Lokir-Ka. He _didn’t,_ but he could have. 

The Voss were _also_ very pretty. And _that_ , Jhonnen noticed. 

Lokir-Ka was a tall man with patterned skin that Jhonnen would have called blue but would have privately felt he was lying. He had orange eyes that blazed in his head and a gentle voice, one that Jhonnen felt would have been better suited for poetry than a debriefing. 

For a moment, Jhonnen wondered what Voss looked like naked. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to find out. For research purposes if nothing else. 

“You Lokir-Ka?” Jhonnen asked to be sure. 

“Indeed.” Lokir-Ka gave a shallow bow. “May the mystics see no shadows on you, Captain, and the duty to all weigh lightly.” He gave a thin smile. “I am your _honores_. Your translation might be _chaperone._ ” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Jhonnen inclined his head a little. “What can you tell me to keep me out of trouble?” 

“Your mission has touched a nerve.” 

_Damn it_. 

“The creatures that attacked your Senator Dodonna are a Gormak abomination.” 

_Gormak_ meant nothing to Jhonnen and he let his lack of comprehension show on his face. “Gormak,” he repeated. “Vossian insult?” 

“The Gormak are creatures of war,” Lokir-Ka explained patiently. “They create these monstrosities from beasts, set them against us. To spread Gormak creations past the stars violates every law.” 

“So we’re looking for criminals.” 

“Voss do not commit crimes,” Lokir-Ka said seriously. 

Jhonnen opened his mouth to point out that that wasn’t possible and in the name of diplomacy closed his mouth again. 

“If you seek criminals, search your people. A settlement in the Minev-Ra caves. Called ‘The Exchange’.” 

“Yep, those are criminals,” Jhonnen nodded, idly hoping that this was actually going to wrap quickly. “Where am I going?” 

“I have been there,” Lokir-Ka sent the coordinates to Jhonnen’s datapad. He cleared his throat as if nervous. “I have an… _academic_ interest in offworld music.” 

_He’s adorable_ , Jhonnen thought, nodding a little at Lokir-Ka’s attempt to defend himself. 

“My trade was with a human named ‘Scratch’, perhaps he can answer your questions.” 

“I hope so,” Jhonnen said. He turned and left, Corso on his heels. 

“They’re real formal, ain’t they?” 

“To each his own.” Jhonnen shrugged. “At least the Exchange is familiar. We might get shot at, but at least we’ll see it coming.” 

They caught a shuttle, one large enough for them to take both speeders, to Ken-La Outpost, a Republic base set up temporarily on Voss as a show of good faith. Jhonnen idly looked around just in case Kira and her companions had ended up in the same place, a slim and stupid wonder, but Jhonnen felt entitled to his stupidity. 

She was a _Jedi_. 

Would the wonders never cease?

And she didn’t seem to be one of the ‘all red sith must die’ jedi either.

He and Corso found the Exchange nearby, operating out of a cave like Lokir had said. They were actually playing nice, armed guards and everything but they were there to do _business_ and that mean Jhonnen and Corso were able to waltz right in. 

Scratch was a human male with a mohawk. 

<< You’re the _distinguished guest_ Lokir was on about? Ha.  >> said Scratch in huttese. << Let me guess—I seen some familiar faces here I wasn’t expecting when my ship put down. I trust it’s Rogun setting shop here that brought you, not a sudden yen for enlightenment. >>

<< Got it in one, >> Jhonnen answered, also in huttese. 

<< Couldn’t tell you why Rogun’s people came here, but I can get you to who’s in charge. I know people who know people, see? >> Scratch smiled << What can I do for _you_?  >>

<< What’s the price? >>

<< Rogun keeps tight reins on his buyers, but I can get you in, >> Scratch said, continuing to explain why his services were necessary and whatever price was fair. << It's the only way you’ll see his people face-to-face. But _first_ , I got a buyer myself. Looking for some one-of-a-kind artifacts only found in the very dangerous ruins out there, if you hear me. >>

Jhonnen heard him. Grave-robbing was all well and good until you got caught. It seemed like the sort of thing the Voss would take exception to. 

Not, however, like he had a whole lot of options. 

<< Point me to the stupid fucking ruins, >> he sighed. 

<< It’s strange down there, >> warned Scratch. << Monsters you might say, and worse. This planet’s got something seriously wrong with it. _But_ you take the specs I’m transmitting, you bring me back something that looks right, I’ll hook you up with Rogun’s folks. Trust me.  >>

<< Got it. >> Jhonnen rubbed the back of his neck and headed back towards sunlight. 

“What was all that?” Corso asked. Jhonnen looked at him and tried to work up the gumption to be surprised that Corso didn’t understand huttese. 

“We’re going grave robbing, I bring back the right artifacts, Scratch can get us into see Rogun’s people. At which point I can interrogate and then shoot them.” 

“Grave-robbing?” 

“Freelance archaeology if you prefer,” Jhonnen shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s just hope we don’t get caught. Oh. And there might be monsters.” 

“I’m not sure how I feel about grave-robbing,” Corso said.

Jhonnen sighed. “Corso, the only part of this job you are sure about is the shooting people. I promise, we have done worse.” Like shooting people.

The tomb was full of imperial droids, which at least Corso felt good about blowing up. Fortunately, there were no monsters. 

With their haul secured, Jhonnen and Corso returned to the Exchange and Jhonnen allowed himself a sliver of optimism that this just might be a one day job. 

<< I have your artifacts, >> Jhonnen told Scratch, patting the box he’d put them in for transit. 

<< Your rep don’t lie, do it? I’ll get you Jela on the link—she’s Rogun’s lady-in-charge. >> Scratch turned the holo on and dialed, a moment later a female cathar in full body armor filled Jhonnen’s view. << Jela, I got your buyer here. Full up. This sale goes through, tell Rogun those credits got my name on them. >>

“I assume he means you?” Jela looked Jhonnen up and down. “Then I warn you, this is a unique opportunity. There’s nothing like these creatures for sale in the galaxy.” 

<< Let’s see what you have, >> Jhonnen said in huttese. 

Scratch excused himself. 

“You understand this is large and unusual cargo with certain… transportation issues.” Jela said. “Selling it is a capital offense on Voss. You have to buy direct and pick it up yourself.” 

<< Where? >> Jhonnen asked. 

“To keep this out of sight of the Voss commandos, we set up shop in the heart of the Gormak war zone. I’ll transmit the coordinates now. _If_ you make it here alive, I’ll be waiting.” 

The holo clicked off but before Jhonnen could exhale he heard Lokir-Ka snap at him. “I awaited you in Voss-Ka for hours. You were seen everywhere else.” 

Jhonnen blinked. 

“If you do not check in, duty requires I accompany you.” 

“I didn’t know I was _supposed_ to check in,” Jhonnen said truthfully. “Sorry.”

“I am honores,” Lokir said, as if that explained everything (it didn’t). “I cannot guard Voss from your influence if you deal in secret. What have you learned?” 

“They’re selling the creatures in the heart of the Gormak war zone. I’m supposed to go there and meet the woman selling them.” He shrugged. “I’m posing as a buyer, pretty basic stuff actually.” 

“A _buyer_ ,” Lokir said, worry dripping into his tone. “Of Gormak abominations?” 

“Jhonnen’s good for it.” Corso immediately had Jhonnen’s back and Jhonnen was grateful. “We’re putting these folks out of commision.” 

<< All due respect, Lokir, >> Scratch said, having returned with Lokir. << Sometimes you gotta be scum to catch scum. >>

Lokir frowned, painted lips tugged to a thin line. He looked at Jhonnen and seemed to consider for a long moment before he said, “I will not interfere unless you break Voss law. But I _will_ come.” 

It was Jhonnen’s turn to frown. A civilian with less of an instinct for lying than Corso had _liability_ written all over it. 

But there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it if he wasn’t going to rock the boat. 

And rocking the boat on _Voss_ would end with the _entire_ Republic up his ass, not just one senator. 

“Great,” he sighed. “Should be _fun_.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But it’ll kill the con if they see me paling around with a Voss so you’ll need to hang back.” 

Lokir frowned. “Agreed. Where?” 

<< According to Jela’s transmission, it’s near the pilgrim route, >> Scratch said, looking over the coordinates. << Looks like a risky neighborhood. >>

“Even the mystics dare that not.” Lokir sounded almost in awe. 

<< Find yourself an escort to those coordinates and give the Captain room to work. Good luck. >>

“Thanks,” said Jhonnen, because huttese didn’t have a polite word for it. “But that’s going to have to be a _tomorrow_ adventure. We need a place to crash tonight.” 

“I am honores.” Lokir gave a small smile. “I will make arrangements.” 

* * *

The arrangements Lokir found for them were nice and Jhonnen had a real water bath for the first time in longer than he was going to admit. The fresher was wonderful and all, but there was something _special_ about being submerged. 

He was sharing a room with Corso, but the other man was already unconscious by the time a clean and satiated Jhonnen padded back to his mattress. He looked at his holo and smiled before scooping it up and dialing Kira’s frequency, half of him convinced that she’d given him a wrong number. 

“Jhonnen?” Kira appeared in miniature in his palm. She gave him a tired smile. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Jhonnen said, folding so he was sitting cross-legged on the austere mattress. “Is it alright that I called?” 

“Of course.” She sat down, a cup of something, probably tea possibly whiskey, in her other hand. 

They were quiet for a moment, both trying to work out how to say what needed to be said. 

“Where, uh, where have you been?” Kira asked. “What’s been happening?” 

“I’ve been almost everywhere,” Jhonnen told her. “It’s… fuck, it’s everything we thought it was going to be.”

Kira grinned. “You know that I’m _respectable_ now.” 

“And not a day goes by that I don’t wish you were sitting in the co-pilot’s seat getting into trouble _with_ me.” Jhonnen stuck his tongue out at her. “More fun than being _respectable_ any day.” 

“So do I wanna know what you’re doing on Voss?” 

“Running errands for a Senator,” Jhonnen huffed. “The Republic has me collared.” 

“The Republic’s not that bad,” Kira said. “I know, growing up it was hard to see a difference but there _is_ a difference between the Empire and the Republic. The Republic’s worth defending.” 

Jhonnen stared at her. “Oh really?” 

“The senate’s a fucking mess, yes, but at least they're trying to treat people fairly. At least the Republic believes in freedom for everyone, not just humans and purebloods and people lucky enough to be Force sensitive.” She grinned. “I’m kinda thinking of running for Senate at some point.” 

“I’d vote for you, illegally anyway, but are jedi _allowed_ to do that?”

“Not _yet_.” Kira’s grin was infectious. 

Jhonnen laughed. “Tell me about _you_ , how’s being a Jedi? Aren’t you supposed to be all serene and detached and shit?”

“I think the rule about attachments is to keep us from getting _overly_ attached,” Kira said, batting away the concern. She took a drink. “Besides, it’s my _attachment_ to the Republic that makes me so good at my job.” 

“Makes sense to me.” Jhonnen could still scarcely believe this was happening. “Look, about… about what happened.” 

“We were seventeen,” Kira said quietly. “You got scared, I get it.” 

“I mean, yes, that’s all true, but like I said, it was wrong of me. I should have had your back.” Jhonnen wished she were in the room so he could impress upon her how serious he was. “It wasn’t like you were going to run a rebar rod through _my_ chest cavity.” 

“I thought you hated me,” she admitted, trying to pass it off as not being a big deal. 

“Never for a minute,” he said firmly. “I just got scared.” He gave her a small, earnest smile. “And if you ever need an out, from anything, I’m still willing to be your partner in crime.” 

Kira laughed. “You say the sweetest things, but Kat would literally die without me.” 

“He a good guy?” 

“He’s kind of an idiot some days, but yeah. He… he means a lot to me.” 

“You two… ?” Jhonnen let the question linger and hated the way his chest relaxed when Kira laughed and shook her head. 

“He’s… It’s not like that.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s _with_ someone else as we speak.” 

_Thank the stars_. 

“Awkward. And he’s missing out.” 

“On me or in general?” Kira waggled her eyebrows.

_On you_. 

“In general.” Jhonnen kicked himself for playing coy. “Also on you.” 

“Did you just hit on me, Red?” 

“Not very well,” Jhonnen admitted. “I should get some sleep. Is it still cool if I call you Impy? What with you being a stalwart defender of the Republic now.” 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” 

“Noted. Goodnight Kira.” 

“Goodnight, Red.” 

* * *

Jhonnen’s holo buzzed over breakfast and he gave a sheepish smile to Lokir and Corso before fishing it out of his pocket to see what was what. 

“Captain!” an utterly unfamiliar man said. “I thought I would never find you. The minute I heard you were on Voss, I started searching.” 

This sounded _bad_. People looking for Jhonnen was usually _bad_. 

“I’m certain you have terribly important business, but might you find time to do one small service for a diplomat of the Republic? Er. me.” 

Jhonnen blinked and opened his mouth to say no. He was having a hard enough time with “favors for the Republic” as it was. 

He looked at Lokir and Corso and hated that both of them expected him to say yes. 

“What _exactly_ do you need?” he said carefully.

“Her whole life, my sister’s suffered from a rare form of Mizra Syndrome. She would have died had I not landed this post on Voss. I was able to arrange for her to receive healing from the Mystics.” 

“One, sounds like you solved it, two, I’m pretty sure Mystics are hard off limits for me.” 

“It’s nothing like that, I swear. My sister chose to stay and serve the Shrine of Healing as payment for her treatment. But now our mother is dying and I have no way to reach her.” 

There was a pang in Jhonnen’s left breast, that sting that said he never said goodbye to Isixia. 

“The whole path to the shrine, it’s besieged by Gormak. I can pay you handsomely if you would brave the Gormak to bring my sister word to come home.” 

He wanted to say no. He desperately, achingly, wanted to say no. It was out of the way, he had his own problems, it wasn’t worth it. 

But he thought about Isixia and all the things he would have said if he had known. 

“Yeah, alright.” His shoulders slumped. “But only because you said _handsomely_. Send me her name and her face.”

The man on the other end of the holo looked relieved. “Thank you, Captain. I believe Kindra serves a Mystic named Kina-Re. I pray she lets her leave, and quickly—mother may not last long.” 

The holo went dark and Jhonnen tucked it back into a pocket, pointedly not looking at either Lokir or Corso because if he had to see _pride_ on Corso Rigg’s face after that he was going to hit someone, probably Corso. 

“We’ve gotta leave like now if we want to hit the shrine before we’re supposed to meet Jela.” He focused on his breakfast. “Lokir do you know the way to the Shrine?”

“I do.” Lokir sounded a little cross. “It is not for outsiders.” 

“Nothing is.” Jhonnen exhaled and looked up, offering Lokir a half-pleading look. “Her mother is dying.” 

“I… understand. I will show you the path,” he produced a datapad and sent Jhonnen the rough coordinates.

“Thanks.” Jhonnen looked at the map and his eyes lit up. “They’re right by each other.”

* * *

It felt good, telling Kindra about her mother—not that the news was pleasant, but that Jhonnen had done the right thing. The Shrine of Healing had been beautiful and awe-inspiring, the sort of holy place that makes a man feel a little bad about the wrongs he’s committed. 

But only a little bad.

They left the Shrine in high spirits and made it to the meeting place easily enough, benefits of being expected and decently stealthy. Jela and a human male were waiting. 

“Here after all,” she said, sounding more bemused than anything else. “And I already went and set up another buyer. I assumed you were dead on the trail somewhere.”

“Ye of little faith,” Jhonnen said, thumbs in his pockets. He eyed the monster in the nearest repulsarlift. Scary looking stuff. He looked back to Jela. 

“This is my partner,” she gestured to the man with her thumb. “We call him Gormak Zak. He’s our pipeline to the precious little beasties.” 

Zak wrinkled his nose. “You have the stink of the Voss on you.” 

“Gormak, huh?” Jhonnen said, looking back at Jela and deciding against rising to the Voss-comment. 

“He’s… how do I put this delicately? Gone native. Poor dear doesn’t talk to real people much anymore.” She sighed. “So I hardly know what to charge. You’re our first client who didn’t pay the markup to have the cargo shipped to him.” 

Jhonnen gave her a greasy smile. “I like a challenge.”

“Me too,” laughed Jela, a cruel little chuckle. “The _harder_ , the better.” She paced around him. “But I _always_ come out on top.”

Jhonnen’s gut warned him the jig was up. 

“Which is more than I can say for you.” 

“I don’t know, coming on the bottom can be pretty fun too,” he watched her carefully. Hand inching for his blaster. This was a trap. He’d fucked up. 

“You think I’m fool enough not to recognize Rogun’s top bounty?” 

Jhonnen pulled his blaster. “I did think you looked pretty stupid.” He fired but she ducked and hit a button, triggering an explosion.

When he came to, Corso was helping him upright. Jhonnen shook his head. “If she _hadn’t_ been an idiot she’d have shot me while I was down.” 

“You alright?” Corso asked. 

“Just pissed off.” He growled and whipped off in huttese, << Cum-sucking guttersnipe is going to be using my blaster for anal beads. >>

“What was that?” 

“You don’t wanna know.” He picked himself up and shook the ringing in his ears away. “I should have been fucking smarter. I almost got you killed.” 

“Jhonnen I—”

“We’re friends, don’t make a thing of it.” 

“Captain!” Lokir shouted and Jhonnen growled as he looked up because putting _someone else_ in harm’s way because he was a fucking idiot had not been the plan. “Commandos targeting your location.” Lokir bent forward as he came to a running stop, grabbing his knees to catch his breath. “They speak of an informant who sent them.” 

“Yep,” Jhonnen huffed. “We’ve been framed.” 

Lokir looked confused and Jhonnen wished there was time to preserve his innocence. “She’s making it look like I’m responsible for this.” 

“You can explain the truth,” Lokir started and then shook his head. “No. With this evidence I would not listen to an outsider cry innocence.” 

“This was set up by Gormak sympathizers—does it serve Voss to let them get away?” Jhonnen asked. He almost felt bad for twisting Lokir’s code around. Almost. Mostly Jhonnen was just angry. 

“The evidence is strong. It will take months for adjudicators to sort the truth.” He looked at his feet, a thin frown painting his mouth. “If I give you time, you must use it to hunt these outlaws.” 

“That much I promise.” 

“Leave. That passage will take you to the trail.” Lokir pointed. “I will tell the Commandos the truth I know. Await me in Scratch’s shop.” 

* * *

By the time they reached Scratch’s shop, Jhonnen had cooled off _a lot_. He still wasn’t sure how to navigate the “I care about you” minefield with Corso, but maybe the other man would just pretend it hadn’t happened. 

Jhonnen could dream anyway.

It wasn’t that there was anything _wrong_ with feeling protective of another guy, Jhonnen knew that. It was just that he hadn’t felt close to _anyone_ in six years and he didn’t trust Corso to not get weird about it because Jhonnen was into guys.

He and Corso arrived in time to over hear Scratch and Lokir arguing, the gist of which boiled down to “you sent that walking liability to _me_?” and Jhonnen couldn’t really fault Scratch for it. 

“I’ll be out of here as soon as I have a place to go,” Jhonnen promised. “I don’t want the Commandos in here anymore than you do.” He looked Scratch up and down. “Well, maybe a _little_ more.” 

“Jela laid her groundwork well,” Lokir said. “The adjudicators believe you lead the smuggling ring.” 

“Neat.” 

“The manhunt will continue secretly, to avoid alerting accomplices.” 

“I need to find Jela and clear my name, I’m actually innocent this time.” He forced a smile and tried to ignore his racing heartbeat. 

“To clear your name, you must catch Jela Reneke trading with Gormak,” Lokir said. 

<< She and that creepy Zak guy are the only ones the Gormak don’t shoot on sight. >> Scratch muttered, apparently accepting that the more he helped the quicker Jhonnen would leave. << They both have their own hideouts down in Gormak lands, but there’s no easy way to get there. >>

“Why would things start being easy _now_ ,” Jhonnen set his hands on his hips. “What’s the hard way?” 

<< There are options, but you’ll want to think them over carefully and pick your favorite. >> Scratch looked to Lokir’s holo. << We might be a while. >>

“Tell Scratch your decision, I must speak with the adjudicators.” Lokir’s holo went dark and Scratch shook his head. 

<< I was lying. There’s only one way to get to Jela—but Lokir wouldn’t be happy if he knew what I’m doing. >>

“Poor guy deserves a break. What _are_ we doing?” 

<< I’ve been trading with Gormak Zak and his people on the side, >> Scratch admitted. << I could send you with their next shipment. >>

Jhonnen frowned. 

<< The thing is, Gormaks scan for life-forms before they let any supplies in. >>

“Neat.” Jhonnen sighed. 

“Are you saying we need to be dead?” Corso looked alarmed. 

Jhonnen was tempted to leave him behind, but realistically he was going to need back-up. “Yep, that’s what he’s saying.” 

<< I’ve got equipment here to freeze you in carbonite and then release you on a timer. You’ll thaw out inside Gormak Zak’s home base. Zak is your best shot at finding Jela, and this is a chance to take him by surprise. >>

“I don’t have a better idea.” 

“We could _not_ ,” Corso said. “I ain’t a coward but—”

“It’s a stupid plan and you don’t have to get frozen if you don’t want to. I, however, have to fix this before Dodonna gets wind of this clusterfuck and goes after Panwa Muni.” 

Corso frowned, thoroughly shamed. “You know I’m with you, Jhonnen.” 

“Thanks, because I have no idea how I’d pull this off on my own.” 

<< Go into my carbon freezing chamber and activate it whenever you’re ready. I’ll bundle you inside Gormak Zak’s supply shipment. >>

Jhonnen nodded, grateful that he’d already cleared his one big regret in life by apologizing to Kira. 

<< If you make it back alive, you’ll have to tell me what it’s like. I’ve never had the guts to try it. >> Scratch lead the way to the equipment and Jhonnen looked at Corso. 

“I’ll get you out of this in one piece,” he promised. 

“I’m not _that_ scared,” Corso rolled his eyes. “It’s just a stupid plan.” 

“Yes. Yes it is.” 

* * *

Jhonnen was honestly, a little surprised that he woke up. He was more surprised that strong arms were holding him upright. He was unsteady on his feet and looked around for Corso, finding instead the face of Gormak Zak. 

Jhonnen tried to push him away and almost fell over. 

The downsides of carbon-freezing. 

“I offer peace,” Gormak Zak said, stepping away with his arms out to catch Jhonnen if he started to teeter over. 

“Jhonnen?” Corso said from somewhere on the floor. 

“I’m here.” He looked up at Zak and narrowed his eyes. 

Zak held up a hand peaceably. “Forgive me. I did not know what Jela intended. Though I would not have opposed her then.” 

“Last time I saw you you were helping get me framed and eventually executed. What gives?” Jhonnen found his blaster, stepping between Zak and Corso with the barrel at Zak’s chest. 

“Jela has gone too far.” Zak said reasonably. “I came to this world to help Rogun. Now the Gormak are my family. I will do nothing to hurt them.” 

“Family’s important,” Jhonnen agreed without lowering his blaster. “How’s Jela fucking with yours?” 

“Rogun did well for my people. He brings new weapons, new food. But Jela goes behind his back. She is trading with Sith, and they demand what all Gormak are forbidden.” 

Jhonnen lowered his blaster a little. “Sith. _Wonderful_.” 

“The Sith asks us to operate on the beasts of the Nightmare Lands.” 

Which sounded bad. 

“The creatures there are twisted mutants. The Sith will only trade for them.” Zak shrugged his massive shoulders. “We refused. But they said the mutants would be powerful weapons with our tech. Jela agreed.” 

Jhonnen nodded and lowered the blaster all the way. “So how do we help each other?” 

“We need protection.” Zak admitted. “Everything that walks into the darkness is consumed, body and mind. Those Jela took with her were corrupted… changed… destroyed. They are no longer Gormak.” 

As if on cue something rammed into the door. 

“That them?” 

Zak nodded. Jhonnen got Corso to standing and readied his blaster to take aim at whatever came through the door. The Gormak reminded him a little of lizards, scaly and flat-faced. The corrupted ones had a mad look in their eye and flung themselves forward without weapons, relying on tooth and claw and brute strength. 

Jhonnen, Corso and Zak took them down and then Zak knelt to check the wounds of an uncorrupted Gormak caught in the fire. “Thank you. Those who live, live because of you. Stop Jela. Those she leads turn into ones like this.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Stopping her was pretty much the plan anyway.” 

“In Jela’s lair, you can learn her plans. Destroy the followers she corrupted.” 

“You got a headcount or something?” 

“She took many,” Zak said. “I don’t know who survived. But there is a back entrance, I will give you passcodes to her rooms.” He stood up and produced a datapad to send the information along. “Talk with the wretched Voss when you are done. They already man a path to the Nightmare lands.” 

“Sounds fun.” 

It did not sound fun. 

“I will seek shelter with the Exchange,” Zak looked around mournfully. “While I’m here, my family is still a target.” 

“Right, see you later then.” 

Sneaking through the Gormak’s back ranks to get to Jela’s lair was harrowing, but easier than a frontal assault would have been. More than once Jhonnen and Corso found themselves in a quick and dirty firefight hoping to kill their opponents before the next patrol wandered by. 

But they made it. 

While Corso watched the door, Jhonnen turned on a holorecorder to try and figure out where Jela had gone and what she was doing. 

“It is t-t-time,” Jela said over the recording. “Return to me im-m-mediately. Lord Wratchen comes t-t-tonight to Lab 68. I p-promised him a demonstration of the powers we have tapped before we f-f-finalize our deal.” 

Jhonnen sucked in air through his pointy teeth. Whatever she was messing with was fucking her up bad. 

And you know what? She deserved that. 

“With this sale, the S-Sith armies will be invincible… and I will be the richest woman in h-history.” 

She was also stupid. The Sith would probably just kill her when he had what he wanted. That was how Sith _worked_. 

Jhonnen fished his comm out of it’s pocket. “Lokir.” 

“Captain.” 

“Have you heard of a place the Gormak call the _Nightmare Lands_?” 

“The land’s Dark Heart,” Lokir said solemnly. “It is our shame—a cancer that comes from the Gormak’s touch.” 

“Jela’s selling the Sith Gormak-modified creatures from the Nightmare lands.” 

“Such crime makes trading in abominations small.” Lokir shook his head. “No man emerges from the Nightmare Lands sane.” 

“All the same, how do I get there?” 

“Go to our commando checkpoint. The manhunt has not reached there.” 

“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” Jhonnen exhaled sharply. “Hey Corso, would you say I drive you crazy?” 

“A little, why?” 

“Just checking.” 

“This a sex thing again, Jhonnen?” Corso narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

Jhonnen cracked a brittle smile and hoped he got Corso back in one piece when this was all said and done. “I _really_ wish.”

* * *

“Didn’t expect to see you in person,” Jhonnen admitted when he saw Lokir at the commando outpost. 

“I am still honores, I should see you off myself.” Lokir produced a holorecorder from a pocket. “Take this holorecorder. It is my wife’s—she is an adjudicator. Bring back evidence of Jela’s crimes; it will be trusted.” 

“Will do, and thank you.”

“Your duty is mine. Take this transport,” Lokir pointed, “to the excavation site.” 

Jhonnen nodded, tucking the holorecorder into an easily accessed pocket. 

“You wanna stay here?” Jhonnen asked Corso as they looked at the transport. “Apparently the Nightmare Lands drive people crazy.”

“I’m fine, Jhonnen.” 

“Just checking.” 

They boarded and got dropped off close to the Dark Heart, making the rest of the trip to Lab 68 on foot. They made their way inside and were only stopped by a force field, on the other side of which Jhonnen say mutated creatures laden with cybernetics. Jhonnen produced the holorecorder to capture the interaction and conversation between Jela and the sith lord. All the proof he needed to clear his name. 

The field went down and Jhonnen looked up at Jela. “You’re dead!” He shouted.

The creatures lunged but Jhonnen and Corso were ready with blasters and grenades. When the creatures lay dead, Jhonnen shot out the generator and glared up at Jela. He fired up and caught her in the chest but her armor absorbed most of it. Something tight closed around Jhonnen’s throat. 

_This is it_ , Jhonnen thought, his feet leaving the ground. 

Then he fell, Corso shooting at the sith and distracting him. 

Jhonnen chucked a grenade at the bastard and then chucked a few more, raining destruction and debris. 

At the end of it, Corso and Jhonnen were injured, but they were also the only two standing. 

They limped back to the transport and collapsed against one another on the trip back to Shad-Ka Outpost. 

Lokir, at least, looked happy to see them. Happier when Jhonnen handed over the holorecorder with the proof on it. 

“I will set a hearing with the adjudicators.” 

“There’s going to be a trial?” Corso complained. “I thought we did all this so there _wouldn’t_ be a trial.” 

“You should not live with this stain,” Lokir said. 

Jhonnen’s shoulders sagged, aggravating the burn wounds on his arms. “Great. Can it be soon?” 

“Go to the hearing board in Voss-Ka. I will speak on your behalf.” 

“Should I wash up first?” 

“Yes.” 

* * *

Jhonnen was as presentable as he was likely to get under the blaster burns and scrapes when he stood before the hearing board in Voss-Ka, having left Corso behind at the cantina because he was somehow uninvolved. 

Lokir-Ka stood by his side. “I petition Mirev-Ka and the tribunal. For the outsider.” 

“The outsider is accused of trafficking with Gormak. You take this on?” 

“I do.” 

“You both agree to all proceedings?” 

Lokir looked at Jhonnen, who took a breath and nodded. “Yeah, I do.” 

“We do.”

“You are accused of trafficking with Gormak. Testimony?” 

“I submit evidence to prove my innocence,” Jhonnen said. 

Lokir nodded. “Jela Reneke sold the Gormak monstrosities.” 

Mirev pursed her lips and looked at the adjudicators on either side of her. “We must confer.” 

Jhonnen waited. 

When the adjudicators returned, Mirev-Ka nodded. “The evidence speaks. This crime is Jela Reneke’s. She has been punished.” 

“But _you_ have other transgressions,” said one of the other adjudicators. 

Jhonnen frowned. “What did _I_ do?”

“For negotiating with Gormak, entering forbidden territory and corrupting the moral health of an honrores, you owe a debt.” 

“The accusation was trafficking not—” 

Mirev cut Lokir off with a look. “You speak out of turn, husband.” 

Jhonnen drew in a gasp between his teeth. He probably should have realized from the name, but had a hard time believing that Lokir was willing to stare down his own wife for this. 

What a pal. 

“It was my idea, honorable adjudicators. These lesser crimes stopped Jela Reneke. Punish _me_.” 

“What’s the sentence?” Jhonnen leaned forward, hoping to spare Lokir any more trouble. “I did what I did.” 

“You must serve Voss,” said Mirev. “We will not prolong your stay. Aid our community by making deliveries to our settlers offworld. Lokir-Ka will provide the details.” 

“I will work this out.” Lokir said. “Meet me at our… mutual friend’s shop.” 

“Will do.” 

* * *

Scratch’s shop was starting to feel like an old friend and Jhonnen kind of hated that.

He was surprised to see Zak, but not as surprised as he would have liked to have been. 

“My contacts would not risk hiding me,” Zak said. “They say this man knows you.” he gestured to Scratch. “Does Jela live?” 

“Nope.” Jhonnen shook his head. 

“I will not see Rogun send another Jela to control us,” Zak said firmly. “Would you take our trade instead?” 

“Isn’t that what you just went through a whole trial to prove yourself innocent of?” Corso asked. 

Jhonnen nodded. “Corso’s right, I’m not going anywhere near that.” 

Zak looked disappointed, but not surprised. “I should return to my family. Thank you for their lives.” 

“No problem.” 

Zak left and Jhonnen leaned against a shelf to wait for Lokir, grateful that at least _now_ it all seemed to be over with. 

“Will we have time to run cargo to these Voss settlers?” Corso asked. 

Jhonnen shrugged. “I imagine we’ll have to make time.” 

It had been a very long couple of days. He tried to focus on the positive points, an actual water bath and the fact that he’d reconnected with Kira. 

He could call her literally whenever. And he intended to.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Corso said. “I can look after myself.” 

Jhonnen stared at him. He really _couldn’t_ but that wasn’t the sort of thing Jhonnen felt he needed to point out. Instead he just said, “I worry, Corso, it’s like half of what I do as a person.” 

“I ain’t helpless.” 

“Never said you were.” Jhonnen sighed. “If we need to have a homoromantic ‘I love you, man’ session for me to get this across, fine. I care about you. You’re a good friend and you’re one of the very few people I think I actually trust. Worrying about you isn’t out of my way.” 

Corso opened his mouth and then closed it again as Lokir showed up.

Jhonnen was grateful for that.

“I did not think to be so long,” Lokir said. He offered a thin attempt at a smile and transferred the contact information for the deliveries Jhonnen needed to make. “I wish you a future of clear vision and strong will. I will not be the same.” 

“Me neither,” Jhonnen said, hoping that what he meant was ‘I will be more clever and less prone to almost getting blown up’ but figuring that, unlike Lokir who may have actually _learned_ something, he was just going to be stupid in other ways. “Hey, Corso?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let’s go home.” 

* * *

Jhonnen breathed freely when they were back on _The Tick_ and not a moment sooner. Voss had been weird, not _entirely_ unpleasant, he supposed, but mostly unpleasant. He offered a smile to Risha where she was sitting in the lounge with a datapad. “Sorry it took so long.” 

“Call next time.” 

“You’re not wrong,” he flopped into the chair beside her. “We’ve got a couple of extra deliveries to make, one that’s actual work and the rest to ensure that I don’t end up in Vossian prison, whatever that’s like.” 

Risha lifted one delicate eyebrow. “Have another _adventure_ , Jhonnen?” 

“Yes.” He was dangerously close to pouting about it. 

“Could this one have been avoided with some foresight?” 

“Probably.” He groaned and stood up when the holoterminal beeped. He kicked it before flicking it on and offering Darmas what was supposed to be a smile. 

“I hear you had some trouble on Voss, Captain?” Darmas said with a displeased tug of his mouth. “Senator Dodonna asked me to call. She’s busy defending her decision to send such an _undiplomatic_ ambassador to Voss at a crucial time. Any success learning Rogun’s business?” 

“Found it, stopped it, got shot at a lot,” Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. 

“I’m sure the Senator will sleep easier knowing she would wake up to a cyborg nexu on the pillow.” Darmas said. “You’ve got Rogun in full retreat. He’s calling his surviving lieutenants for a war council.” 

“Where do I get an invite to that?” 

“I checked into all of Ivory’s bolt-holes, the one on Tatooine seems to be the one still active.”

“Anything I should know?” 

“You’ve about put Rogun out of commission. All he’s got left is a handful of loyal killers and he wants them to take you down in a blaze of glory.” Darmas shrugged. “Don’t let him.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“This is your chance to wipe the slate and call the biggest criminal empire in the galaxy your own.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jhonnen said. “Talk to you later.” He hung up. 

“You don’t sound thrilled,” Risha observed.

“I have fucking whiplash,” Jhonnen admitted. “I fixed my one big regret, almost went to prison, got blown up and had to tell Corso we’re friends.” He sighed. “I deserve a nap.” 

“I didn’t think a man like you _had_ regrets,” observed Risha. “So, what was it?” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “I bailed on someone a long time ago because I freaked out, I never got the chance to apologize.” He looked at her. “ _That’s_ why what you did to Beryl messed my head up. Because I was _in_ that position and couldn’t wrap my head around not even being sorry.” 

Risha shrugged. “I was looking out for myself.” 

“And I respect that. But I left someone I lo—cared about in the lurch.” He shrugged. “But I saw her again and got to apologize. Made the rest of the bullshit down there worth while.” 

“How noble.” Risha rolled her eyes. 

“Something like that.” 


	18. Comeuppance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen finally gets even with Rogun.

Jhonnen had thought he was the first one awake after a restless night. He was wrong, and found Akaavi sitting in the galley cleaning her blaster. 

“I do not presume to question your choice of crew mates,” said Akaavi in a voice that said she was about to do precisely that. Jhonnen made caf. “But I am curious. Why do you allow yourself to be surrounded by the weak?” 

Jhonnen poured two cups of caf and offered her one, actually a little surprised when she took it. 

“Only the wookie—”

“Bowdaar,” Jhonnen corrected lightly.

“—displays any strength of character. He understands honor. The rest are petty criminals.” 

Jhonnen, a petty criminal, shrugged. “Guss is still learning who he is, Risha’s a criminal _mastermind,_ nothing petty there, and Corso… he’s uh, he’s got a good _heart_.” Nothing that was a rousing endorsement, but Jhonnen felt that he had to defend everyone at least a little bit. 

“He is too weak of spirit to make hard choices. He will hesitate, and fail you.” 

Jhonnen took a drink, unable to actually argue with that. 

“One thing a Mandalorian never has to question is a clan-mate’s honor. I could always count on the strength of my fellow warriors.” Akaavi lifted the caf to her lips, looking almost sad for a moment. “I always sleep lightly aboard your ship.” 

Jhonnen nodded. He couldn’t admit it, but he knew how she felt. The only people aboard he felt he could _trust_ were Corso and Bowdaar and neither for reasons he _liked_. 

Bowdaar felt he owed a life-debt. Jhonnen didn’t trust debts. 

Corso was just too straight and narrow for betrayal to occur to him. It was sort of a miracle Corso wasn’t regularly trying to turn Jhonnen into the authorities and if he suspected something actually harmful was being smuggled, he might. 

He had this _thing_ about Spice. 

But Jhonnen couldn’t say that to Akaavi, who gave the impression that she’d leap at the first sign of weakness. He settled on: “The company’s nice.”

“Hrm,” Akaavi replied. “I had a blaster and a jet pack before I ever had a friend.” 

“Friends are nice,” Jhonnen said. “But I can see how they’d take some getting used to.” 

“I will consider this.” Akaavi turned to leave the galley, holding the mug in one hand. “Thank you for the drink.” 

“My pleasure.” 

He padded on bare feet to the cockpit and laid in a course to Alderaan to make the first of the deliveries for the Voss; he needed to get that all wrapped quickly so he could get to Tatooine and deal with Rogun. 

He sipped his caf and listened to the sounds of the ship waking up behind him, glad he’d made enough caf for everyone. Footsteps behind him alerted him to Risha’s presence and he raised his mug in a small salute. Risha sipped at her caf and settled into the co-pilot’s seat. She handed him a piece of flimsiplast with actual ink on it. 

Jhonnen had never seen actual ink before in his life. 

“Guess who found a potential accomplice in the Dubrillion aristocracy while you were on Voss?” Risha said with a small smirk. “Feast your eyes on this holo-embossed, genuine flimsiplast invitation. See that fancy Aurebesh lettering? Hand-drawn. In ink. Classy.” 

“Classy,” Jhonnen agreed, handing it back and hoping that he hadn’t _smudged_ it. Which would be just his luck. 

“Count Merritt Rineld requests the favor of your presence at a discreet location in the Galactic Senate Tower on Coruscant, at a time of your choosing.” 

Jhonnen checked the list from Lokir and noted that Coruscant was one of the planets he was supposed to deliver to. He changed their heading. “Take Bowdaar in case it’s a trap but we’ll head to Coruscant immediately.” 

“Count Rineld is one of the most popular nobles on Dubrillion. He’s also secretly organizing a rebellion against the king.” She sipped her caf. “His invitation is addressed to _Risha Drayen, Royal Heir to the Drayen Dynasty_. He’s taking me very seriously.” 

“Everyone should take you seriously, Rish. I’ve already laid the course in.” 

“I’m supposed to arrange the meeting over Holo, I want you with me to get a read on this guy.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Let me finish my caf and I’ll be right there.” 

His holo buzzed. Jhonnen pulled it out of a pocket with an apologetic smile to Risha and set it on the console while it came to life. 

He _grinned_ at Kira. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey Red,” Kira said. She sounded tired. She _looked_ tired. 

“Who’s your friend?” Risha asked, looking actually interested for once. 

“Rish, this is Kira, the friend I mentioned last night. Kira, this is Risha.”

“You talk about me?” Kira said with a teasing smile that lit up her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Risha.” 

“I’m his partner in crime,” Risha said, a small tug of a smile on her mouth. 

Jhonnen rolled his eyes. “She means that literally, before you get any ideas. Not that I should be telling a high and mighty Jedi that.” 

Kira laughed. “Right, because it never would have occured to me that you, of all people, were doing crime. I’m shocked. Earnestly shocked.” 

“Hey, mostly at the moment I’m unwillingly serving the Republic,” Jhonnen pointed out. “And the last big thing I did was recover a lost fortune. Perfectly legal.” 

“I heard about that,” Kira said with a nod. “Who knew Nok Drayen’s loot was real?” 

“Risha did,” Jhonnen pointed to Risha with his thumb. “That’s how we met.” He smiled at the comm. “Did you need anything or were you just desperate for the dulcet tones of my voice?” 

Kira snorted another laugh. “Something like that. With the war on, I figure it’s best to keep in touch as frequently as possible, you know, in case you die.” 

“In case _I_ die? You’re the one dealing with sith and shit.” 

“Yeah, but I’m awesome.” 

“Yes,” Jhonnen agreed. “Yes you are.” 

“I’m supposed to be meditating though. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Later Kira.” He hung up and looked at Risha, trying to decipher the look on her face. “What?”

“Didn’t imagine you were the sort to fall for a jedi.” Risha’s tone was snappish. 

“When I met her she wasn’t one,” Jhonnen shrugged. “We were ten. Not when I fell for her. That was… later.” 

Risha exhaled. “That’s kind of cute, flyboy.” 

Jhonnen rolled his eyes and drank the rest of his caf. “That’s what Corso said.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “Let’s go set up a meet with that Count guy.” He pushed out of his chair and Risha followed him down to the holoterminal. 

She dialed and Jhonnen waited and watched as the count offered himself in marriage to give Risha the political _in_ that she needed. Jhonnen blinked in surprise but only looked half as shocked as Risha herself.

He seemed like a decent sort though. Sincere, awkward. Definitely not Risha’s type, assuming she _had_ a type. Jhonnen didn’t actually know. 

“I’m on my way to Coruscant,” Risha said. “See you there, Count.” 

“In light of the circumstances,” Jhonnen said as the holo went dark, “take Corso instead of Bowdaar. You might want the back up but Bowdaar would be making a _statement_.” He rolled his head on his neck. “Count seems nice though.” 

“Gives me butterflies just thinking about him,” Risha scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

* * *

Jhonnen delivered the supplies to the Voss on Coruscant and returned to _The Tick_ to find Risha waiting for him. She was holding a glass of whiskey and spared him a small smile when she noticed him looking at her. 

“Never talked to a complete stranger for that long before, I think Corso got _bored_. Count Rineld gives to charities, builds orphanages, creates wildlife preserves—and those are just his hobbies.” Risha sighed. “You ever consider we’ve been wasting our lives?”

“Me? Waste my life? Never.”

She gave a small laugh. “Anyway, I left the negotiations open. I told the Count I needed time to think about his proposal. That’ll give me a chance to run a deep background check.”

“Clever.” Jhonnen headed to the cockpit to lay in their next destination, Risha keeping easy pace with him. 

“If this guy is as good as he seems, he might just help me overthrow the king without getting married.”

“That’d probably be ideal,” Jhonnen agreed. “Not that I’ve got a problem with people marrying for money if both sides know what’s up.”

“I figured you for more of a romantic than that.”

Jhonnen shrugged. “To each their own, Rish. _I_ would probably only ever get married for love, assuming I had any interest in getting married, which I don’t. But that doesn’t mean things have to work that way or that anyone else is wrong.”

“You’re full of surprises.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Jhonnen looked up at her. “It keeps things _interesting_.” 

The nice thing about the rest of the deliveries Jhonnen had to make for the Voss was that they were all on central planets and it was easy to hit them all quickly. Jhonnen could scarcely remember the last time a job had gone so smoothly. 

With that out of the way, and therefore both Jhonnen and Lokir free from the weight of their transgressions, Jhonnen laid in a course for Tatooine, eager to put this business with Rogun to bed. 

* * *

Tatooine was still sandy. This wasn’t a _surprise_ per se, but it was _annoying_. Jhonnen looked at Corso. “You’re in this mess as much as I am and more than everyone else. Wanna tag along?” 

“Count me in,” Corso said with an enthusiastic nod. “Torchy’s been itching for a piece of Rogun.”

“Well, this should make everyone, including Torchy, very happy then.” Jhonnen checked the coordinates. “Hopefully it won’t take too long.” 

They broke into the bolt-hole and looked around for the secret entrance to the hideout proper, finding it with little trouble because thinking like a crook was easy when you were one.

It was a little more “guns blazing” than Jhonnen liked in his day to day, but they advanced through the ranks of mercenaries and gangsters until, at long last, they found Rogun. 

“Does this make you proud?” barked Rogun. “You fooled the Republic into drowning you in honors, while you fetch and heel for the Empire.” 

Jhonnen blinked. 

“Maybe you’ll kill me… but not before I show the galaxy you’re a traitor.” 

“There is a lot to unpack there,” Jhonnen said. “One, that’s racist. Two, you can’t betray something you don’t work for. Three, you’re the Imperial lackey here, buddy, not me.” 

“There’s no one here to listen to your _lies_ ,” snarled Rogun. 

“Hehehe.” 

Rogun and Jhonnen both turned towards the sound of the giggle, finding two pureblood women, one with an ignited saberstaff and one holding a comm. 

“Jokes on you,” said the one with the comm. She pushed a button and the Voidwolf materialized in her palm. 

“You’re awfully sentimental, Captain. Willing to bend over for anyone who threatens your little whorehouse.” 

Jhonnen’s glare sharpened. 

“A man helps you once so you trust him forever? A woman gets elected so she’ll be loyal to the office?” 

“Fuck me,” Jhonnen could barely breathe as the pieces started to click into place and his vision went red. 

“See what your patrons are saying now.” The holo changed to an image of Darmas and Dodonna talking. 

“Once that idiot captain takes out Rogun, the rest of the gangs will fold,” said Darmas, the clear leader in this banthashit. “We’ll have the whole underworld locked up.” 

“Then the Voidwolf will keep his promise? When the Empire wins I’ll have a planet of my own?” Dodonna sounded perversely hopeful. 

_Idiot_ , thought Jhonnen through the haze of red. 

The Voidwolf reappeared. “I never got to thank you for rescuing them from Rogun at Port Nowhere.”

It all clicked into place. Jhonnen had been set up from the start. Rogun hadn’t been on Port Nowhere chasing _him_ , he was just _convenient._

He got singled out because he was red sith and easy to paint as both underdog hero and evil villain. He had already been on Rogun’s shitlist. 

The perfect patsy. 

Jhonnen said nothing. 

“I never thought you’d survive _The King’s Ransom_ , but it was awful good-hearted of you to clear Rogun out of the way.” 

“When Ivory gave us Rogun’s strongholds, that was just a hit list for the Voidwolf!” Corso announced. 

Jhonnen ground his teeth together. “Yes, Corso.” 

“Now there’s no one left to stand against me.” 

“Dream on tubby,” Jhonnen snapped. “I’m not dead yet.” He whipped his blaster out and shot the sith with the holo in the head, his mother’s words ringing in his ears. 

_Sith are cocky, kiddo. They’ll mock you first, but you’re faster than they are. Wait for an opening then aim for the head and enough times to count. Might get you dead anyway, but at least you’ll make a good show of it._

The woman with the saberstaff screamed and threw herself forward but in her grief she hyperfocused on Jhonnen and made the mistake of letting Corso and Rogun get behind her. 

She crumpled to the ground, back peppered with holes. Jhonnen shot her in the head for good measure.

“He’s put together a pirate fleet,” Rogun said, holstering his weapon. “The Republic expects an attack from outside, not from gangs within their borders.” 

Jhonnen nodded and shot the dead woman a couple more times to vent his frustration. 

“You were duped,” Rogun said. 

“Mostly I was blackmailed,” Jhonnen countered. 

Rogun shrugged. “Doesn’t raise my opinion of you, but it does put us on the same side. I’ll get your back, you get mine?” 

“If it lets me plant a blaster bolt squarely in Darmas’s smug face, yes.” Jhonnen frowned. 

“Dodonna’s too,” Corso said with a curt nod. 

Jhonnen opened his mouth to ask if Corso was feeling alright, more than a little amazed. 

Corso looked at him. “After the shit she’d pulled? Doesn’t matter that she’s a woman.” 

Jhonnen could have cried he was so proud. Corso had used a whole swear word and realized that simply being a woman didn’t make a person any more innocent than anybody else. 

“We done with this blaster shit?” Jhonnen asked Rogun. 

Rogun nodded. “You saved my life, I guess that’s worth a shipment of blasters. I’m just glad all the good you did the Republic was real and not another setup.” 

“What is it about the Republic that inspires so much damn loyalty?” Jhonnen asked, folding his arms over his chest. “First Kira, now you.” 

“It doesn’t work right,” Rogun said. “But the ideals are good and the laws are easier to skirt around than the iron first of the Empire. I’m a bad man, but even I have to admire _something_.” Rogun cleared his throat. “Beyond you and me, the Voidwolf’s got most of the galactic underworld working for him or running scared. He needs to go down and I’m too old to do it. But I’ll give you any weapons you need out of personal vault.” 

“‘Preciate it.” 

“I’ve still got some credibility in the underworld—if you didn’t destroy it.” Rogun side-eyed Jhonnen pretty hard. “I’m going to rally who I can to aid the Republic.” 

Jhonnen nodded. 

“The Voidwolf’s flagship is at Corellia. He was part of the plot to force its government to sell out to the Empire. My guess is Darmas and Dodonna are with him. You want to chase them, I can put you in touch with Curao, a fence I work with.” 

“That’d be appreciated.” 

Rogun’s lips pulled to a smile. Not a _great_ smile, but a smile. “Glad I never managed to knock you off.” 

* * *

Jhonnen let Corso explain things to the rest of the crew, heading immediately into his room to breathe the fire out of his lungs. He produced his comm and called Kira. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey,” he said, unable to actually smile for her. “Kira, there’s a Senator working for the Empire. Her name is Belvara Dodonna, I don’t actually know what planet she’s representing but she’s human.” 

Kira’s gaze sharpened. “How do you know?” 

Jhonnen looked away and launched into the whole story, starting with Isixia’s death and how he was introduced to Darmas and wrapping with the confrontation with Rogun. Kira interrupted a few times with commentary or questions, but mostly she just listened. 

“Shit, Red, are you alright?” 

He shook his head. “I’m angry, Kira. I’m so fucking angry.” 

“Good,” she said, and Jhonnen considered that perhaps Doc had been correct and she was not _great_ at being a jedi. “That’s the sort of thing you _should_ get angry about.” 

“Thought Jedi were all about emptying themselves of emotion.” 

Kira shrugged. “You’re not a jedi.” Her expression softened. “I’m sorry about your mom.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Jhonnen swiped at his eyes as the tears, miserable and angry, started to form in the corners. “I just wanted to warn you. I know Jedi have to interact with Senators and shit.” He frowned. “And I didn’t… I don’t know what the consequences of my actions are or will be. It was just… it was important that _you_ know I’m not working for the fucking Empire.” 

Kira smiled, a small smile, but a genuine one. “I know, Red. I’ll keep an eye out for Dodonna.”

“If I find her first she won’t be a problem, I intend to handle it _thoroughly_.” 

“You do that, Red. No mercy for traitors.” 

* * *

Jhonnen left his room late that night for a cup of caf, unable to sleep and no longer willing to try. He started when he heard someone behind him and almost dropped the carafe. 

Risha raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t wanna—” 

“Count Rineld is a man of his word,” Risha interrupted, effectively communicating that she wasn’t there to talk about what had happened. 

Jhonnen appreciated the distraction and poured her a cup of caf as well. “Oh?”

“He sends me daily updates about his rebellion’s progress. Incredibly sweet, beautifully-written updates.” Risha took the cup from him and frowned into it. “I knew taking Dubrillion’s throne would be a challenge, but this is getting complicated.” 

“Falling for him?” Jhonnen asked. 

“No.” She shook her head and settled into a chair. “But I might have to take this marriage proposal seriously. It’s smart politics.” 

“You’d still be choosing to spend your life with him,” reminded Jhonnen. 

“This isn’t _just_ a business decision.” Risha huddled around her mug and Jhonnen realized that he’d never seen her look vulnerable before. Not even when her father died. “I could be saving innocent lives.” She looked up at him. “When I’m queen, my days of racing the hyperlanes are over. Can you honestly see yourself settling down on Dubrillion? Or anywhere?” 

“No,” Jhonnen shook his head. “This is what I want for my life.” 

Did Risha even know what she wanted for hers? 

“I’ll stop bothering you.” Risha took a long drink. “I needed to talk, and you’re the only person who understands me.” 

Jhonnen didn’t know when the change had happened. When she had gone from ice-queen to confiding in him.

He didn’t mind, but he didn’t know. And he usually liked knowing. 

She looked up at him. “You should sleep.” 

“So should you.” 


	19. Bark And Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen travels to Corellia for a final showdown with Darmas and Dodonna.

Jhonnen knew, logically, that he should have headed immediately for Corellia, but he didn’t. Instead he rounded up the items Doc had requested while they were on the Voss orbital and arranged to meet up with his ship, admittedly while the Jedi Knight in charge was supposed to be somewhere else. 

“Aren’t we in a hurry?” Corso said as Jhonnen packed a box full of genetic samples. “The Voidwolf won’t hang around Corellia forever.” 

Jhonnen nodded and sighed, not looking up from what he was doing. “Corso, I’ve had my legs swept out from under me. I let myself be trapped, collared, and lied to. I may have gotten everyone at Panwa Muni involved and therefore possibly on someone’s hit list. I almost got everyone on this ship killed, a couple of times. _Right now_ I need something to fight for that isn’t spite.” 

“So you’re gonna go see Kira.” Corso folded his arms over his chest.

“So I’m gonna go see Kira.” Jhonnen closed the box. 

The ships connected and Jhonnen promised the crew he’d be back in a flash before carrying the box over himself. 

Doc met him in the cargo bay and inspected the goods before forwarding the credits to Jhonnen’s account. 

“She’s in the meditation room,” Doc said. “Kat ‘n Scourge’ll be back soon though.” 

“‘Preciate the warning. Hope those supplies sort you out.” Jhonnen followed Doc’s vague directions and almost walked into Kira as she was turning down the corridor. 

“I felt you.” She gave him a confused smile. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Legitimate business,” Jhonnen said with a slow smile. “Doc needed stuff.” 

Kira looked past him, her eyes narrowed and then shook her head and looked back at Jhonnen. “Things have been crazy. I’m glad I get to see you before they get worse.” 

“Anything you wanna talk about?” 

“You’re technically a security risk, Red.” She hesitated for a minute before reaching out and taking his hand, just like she had when they were kids. 

Jhonnen squeezed her palm in his. “Fair enough.” 

Kira pulled her hand away and touched Jhonnen’s face, long fingers petting lightly over the tendrils that dripped off his chin. It was slightly electrifying, just the touch of her fingers on his bare skin. There was a softness in her voice when she asked, “Can you stay long?” 

“I shouldn’t.” Jhonnen sighed, wanting nothing more. He couldn’t remember when he had fallen for her, when those feelings of comraderie had taken a romantic bent, but six years apart had done nothing to deaden them. “If I cancel on Voidy he’ll start thinking I don’t care and it’ll just ruin our whole relationship.” He leaned into her palm. “He’s so needy.” 

“That’s the problem with your boyfriends, they’re always needy.” 

“You say, as if I could actually get a boyfriend.” 

Kira snorted a small laugh. “True enough. You ever actually land a girlfriend either?” 

“I have my fun, but no, nothing remotely serious. I think people think I’m unreliable because I live in a spaceship. You?” 

“Jedi aren’t supposed to date.” 

“Oh yeah.” 

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. “Well, Kat’s back.” 

“Force thing?” Jhonnen asked, missing her hand the moment it dropped away from him. 

“Force thing,” Kira confirmed. She looked past Jhonnen back to the cargo hold. A minute later. Jhonnen heard boots and offered a cheeky smile to the short jedi and tall probable-sith-lord as they came up the corridor. 

“Kira’s friend Jhonnen, right?” Kat asked. 

Jhonnen nodded. “I just swung by to see Kira, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.” 

“There’s no hurry,” Kat said, probably trying to be polite. 

“There is, actually.” Jhonnen’s grin remained in place. “I have places to be. People to injure.” He looked back at Kira and his grin softened. “Call you later?” 

“You’d better, Red.” 

* * *

Jhonnen had been to Corellia a number of times. It was another city world, though not as crowded as Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa. Corellians were fond of their parks. Mostly it seemed to be the sort of corporate hell hole he avoided if he wasn’t working. 

He was working now. 

Landing clearance came surprisingly easy; Jhonnen used his real name in case his Republic ID was compromised because of Dodonna and Darmas. Jhonnen paid the bribe and gathered his crew around the holoterminal for what felt like the last time. 

“So last time I left _The Tick_ alone she got stolen, I need someone to hang out here and make sure that doesn’t happen again because if it does I will cry. Big splashy man tears.” Jhonnen gave everyone a smile. “Risha?” 

“I’m waiting for word back from Count Rineld anyway. I think I can keep myself from stealing her.” 

“Corso I want you with me because you’ve been in this shit every step that I have.” 

Corso looked perversely pleased about being singled-out. Probably because it would give him a chance to aim Sargeant Boom-Boom at more Imperials. 

Why did Jhonnen remember the blaster’s name anyway?

Shaking his head, Jhonnen looked at Guss, Akaavi and Bowdaar and made a decision that surprised him. “The Republic’s gonna need help, if you’re up for it, go volunteer.” 

Everyone stared at him. 

“No offense, Jhonnen,” Guss said. “But since when do you _care_?” 

“I don’t.” It felt like a lie. His shoulders slumped. “Look, we’re already in the hole as ‘Imperial Sympathizers’ or whatever, and the Republic is at least fighting for freedom. I think we can all agree on freedom.” 

There was a general chorus of muttered agreement and small nods. 

“So let’s go kick ass for freedom and then get off this rock as quickly as possible before we have to deal with the authorities.” It wasn’t much of a speech, but Jhonnen hadn’t expected it to be. 

He wasn’t exactly an inspiring sort of guy. 

Corso met him at the airlock with Torchy, Sparky _and_ Sargeant Boom-Boom. Jhonnen remained a little concerned that he remembered all the names. 

“Feels good to be fighting _for_ something,” Corso said with a fierce grin. Jhonnen gave him a puzzled look. 

“This is still mostly _against_ something. Well, someone. Someone _s_.” Jhonnen shrugged and headed down the ramp. “Same thing.” 

“We’re here on the side of the Republic, that means something.” 

“I guess,” Jhonnen said, being mostly on the side of spite. He could usually forget that Corso had wandered off at the ripe old age of sixteen to defend the Republic. He made a mental note to ask how Corso had even gotten hooked up with Viidu in the first place, given how “oo-rah Republic forever” he seemed to be. A trooper’s life might have made more sense for him. Not that being a patriot and being a criminal were mutually exclusive, it was just kinda weird. 

Kira, Rogun, Corso, what the hell did the Republic have that made it worth the trouble? Tarnished ideals?

And those _mattered_ and knowing that they mattered made Jhonnen’s stomach hurt. 

“We’re supposed to be meeting Curao at The Gilded Descent casino, it’s not far from the spaceport,” he told Corso.

“Been here before?” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Lots of times. What it lacks in comfortable sleaze it makes up for in fine print.” They reached the entrance to the spaceport and looked out onto a warzone. “Aaaand apparently mortar fire. Awesome.” 

Corellia was terrible. 

The Republic was holding the spaceport, but it seemed a whole lot more tenuous than Jhonnen would have liked. 

At least _The Tick_ wasn’t sitting empty. Risha would bail before she let Imps on board, probably to keep her fancy hyperdrive out of their hands. 

_His_ fancy hyperdrive. It was installed in _his_ ship. 

Jhonnen and Corso headed to The Gilded Descent at a jog, not wanting to be caught out in the open with all the stray blaster bolts. 

The casino had been turned into a military headquarters and seeing that many uniforms in one place made Jhonnen’s skin itch. 

Corso seemed fine, probably because Viidu had operated out of a Fort. For all Jhonnen knew, this many uniforms was just making Corso a little homesick.

He was stopped at the entrance, blasters trained on him and Jhonnen held up both hands peaceably. “I’ve got an ident card,” he said. “I’m no Imp.” 

The blasters stayed fixed on him while his identity, his _true_ identity, was checked and then double checked. Rogun must have pulled a couple of strings though because he was let through without being shot or, really, further harassed. He looked around until he spotted a drall trying to get his attention.

<< If you came to try your luck at the gambling tables, I’m sorry to disappoint you. The casino is closed until further notice. Republic military forces have re-appropriated it for the war effort. >>

“So I’m seeing,” Jhonnen forced his posture to relax. “I’m looking for Curao.”

<< He was arrested trying to bribe General Garza. >> The Drall shrugged. << What business had you with him? >>

“No doubt the usual sort,” Sumalee said from behind him. Jhonnen rolled his eyes at the _smile_ in her tone. 

Then again, Kira smiled, and her smiles were genuine. 

Maybe everything he knew about the jedi was wrong. 

He turned and offered Master Sumalee a grin that said, pretty plainly, _yep, the usual business_. 

“My assistant,” she gestured to the drall. “Hreda of the drall. Seems the war didn’t heed our wish, Captain. Though Shariss made it back alive and whole.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Jhonnen said, privately wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now that Curao had gotten himself arrested trying to bribe a top republic general. Like an idiot. 

“I trust you’re here with Senator Dodonna?” Master Sumalee said. “She arrived days ago and has been overhauling our strategy against the Empire.” 

“I would stop her if I were you,” Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. “Turns out that instead of just being a normal bitch, she’s a traitorous one. Working for the Voidwolf and everything.” 

Jedi knew when people were lying, right? That’s what mom had always said. 

Master Sumalee studied his face carefully and Jhonnen tried not to shy away from it. 

“That’s quite an accusation,” Sumalee said, her eyes narrowing. “Considering Dodonna’s word is your only source of credibility in the Republic.” 

“Which is why I wouldn’t say it lightly.” Jhonnen scowled. 

“Do you have proof? The Senate will require evidence.” 

“I literally watched a holo of her and Darmas scheming to betray the Republic. He’s the mastermind, she’d just in it to become dictator of her own little world.” 

“Darmas Pollaran?” Sumalee’s eyes widened a little. “His relationship with Dodonna has been the top scandal on Coruscant.” 

“It is so much worse then the possibility that they’re fucking.” 

“Hreda,” Sumalee turned to her assistant. “Check our records. Darmas Pollaran’s a known criminal; does the SIS list any aliases or safe houses he’s used on Corellia?” 

The fact that she could just look up that sort of information scared Jhonnen a bit, but he kept his mouth shut. 

<< According to the databanks, he co-owns a cantina and maintains a private residence there. >> Hreda looked to Jhonnen. << I can send you the coordinates. >>

“‘Preciate it.” 

“If you find anything useful,” Sumalee said. “I’m waiting on the link.” 

At least she didn’t seem like she _disbelieved_ him. She just needed proof. Which was sane, reasonable, probably because he was a confessed and proud criminal, and also _hella annoying_. 

At least the safe house wasn’t far. 

And at least he and Corso had _plenty_ of experience sneaking through live fire zones. 

He should have brought Akaavi though, she was sneakier and meaner. 

Darmas’s apartment had already been trashed when Jhonnen got there, but he poked around thoroughly through the belongings that remained, desperate to find _something_. 

And find something he did! A holoterminal. Some quick slicing gave Jhonnen the last message received. The sender was a dark skinned human male with a serious voice. 

“Darmas, this is Nevis Kitt. Those blasted Imperials are getting closer. We’re ready to risk your plan. Meet us by the Pirates’ Haul cantina. Every true Corellian patriot will be there.”

“Uh-oh,” Jhonnen said in a quiet voice before the recording continued. 

“We’ll blow open supply tunnel 26 and come right up in the middle of Imperial forces. Hit those leeches where it hurts! The council won’t sell Corellia out from under her native sons!”

The terminal went dark and Jhonnen whipped out his comm. “Darmas is leading a bunch of Corellian freedom fighters to the slaughter. They’re meeting at the Pirates’ Haul cantina, they plan to blow open supply tunnel 26. Please don’t send me to deal with this, I’m red sith and I will get very, extra, shot.” 

<< Opening supply tunnel 26… that is lunacy, >> said Hreda. << It’s sabotage; it’s treachery piled on treason. >>

_Yes,_ thought Jhonnen, _I know_. 

<< Clearing the tunnel gives the Imperials a path straight to our hearts! >>

“That would be why Darmas is doing it, yes.” He watched Corso nod in his periphery. 

“We need to keep that tunnel closed,” Sumalee said. “The Red Light Sector’s one of our only safe zones.”

A real return to Jhonnen’s roots. 

“You discovered this information and you’re in the best position to stop them. This is your best chance to get the proof you need that Darmas is working for the Empire.” 

“Red. Sith.” Jhonnen said, waving a hand in front of his face to draw attention to it. “I am _pretty damn sure_ that the Corellian guerrilla forces are going to shoot first and question the pants and lack of lightsaber never.” 

“Go. Now.” Sumalee said in a voice that might as well have belonged to his mother after a long day. “And bring Darmas back alive. His testimony is worth more than his head.” 

The comm went dead and Jhonnen tucked it into a pocket. “I don’t suppose we could just… not?” he sighed. 

Corso punched him in the arm. “We do that, the Republic doesn’t stand a chance.” 

Jhonnen exhaled through his nose sharply and groaned. “You’re not _wrong_. I’m just… I have enough problems with people shooting at me in my day job, looking like this, I’m not keen on more of it.” 

“I’ll go in first,” Corso offered. “Assuming we get the chance.” 

“Milking that good ol’ boy charm?” Jhonnen couldn’t help but smile a little as Corso rolled his eyes. 

“Shut up, Jhonnen.” 

“Yessir,” Jhonnen laughed. “You really are an easy mark.” 

* * *

If Jhonnen didn’t know any better, he would have suspected that Corso was _enjoying_ this. Resistance they couldn’t sneak through they had to shoot and Sargeant Boom-Boom scarcely left Corso’s grasp. 

Everyone got all hot and bothered about defending the Republic. 

They made it to the supply tunnels and found number 26, Jhonnen’s heart picking up pace as it whispered the possibility of the Corellian freedom fighters seeing them first. Two well aimed blaster shots could and would end this story forever. Corso would get shot on account of being with him. 

They just had to be careful. Be sneaky. Let Corso go in first. 

There wasn’t a chance, Jhonnen recognized Darmas’s voice as they entered a large central room further down the tunnel. 

“Corellia will not fall!” Darmas shouted, all full of fake fire and vinegar. “When we blow this tunnel we’ll—”

“Unblock it so the Empire can run through it like an unwashed tide.” Jhonnen folded his arms across his chest, the idea of “let Corso talk first” completely out the window. 

“Him! The Imperial Agent! Will we let him sell Corellia to the Voidwolf? Or teach him how wrong he is!” 

“Nobody turns against Corellia!” Was the shouted reply. 

Jhonnen would have pinched the bridge of his nose but he needed his hand down by his blaster in case things took a turn for the worst. “For fucks— _he’s_ the imperial agent.” 

“They won’t believe you,” Darmas said with a small smug smile. His face really did just do that. It would have been impressive it hadn’t been so fucking annoying.

Jhonnen failed to muster any surprise. If he weren’t the one in the middle of it, he probably wouldn’t have believed him either. 

“I already told them how you stole Balmorran weapons and White Maw cloaking technology for the Voidwolf.” 

“Of course you have.” Jhonnen contented himself with glaring. 

“Many of them were quite offended by such behavior from someone on a Senator’s payroll.” 

“Blast him to pieces,” shouted Nevis Kitt, leader of the Corellian freedom fighters. 

“For the last fucking time, _Darmas_ has been working for the Voidwolf. He tricked me like he’s tricking all of you.”

“Do you think they’ll believe you were blind enough to serve the Voidwolf for so long without questions? Balmorra, Hoth, Voss, Belsavis… I can’t think of anyone who’s helped him more.” Darmas stroked his chin. “Either I’m a greater mastermind than anyone would credit, or you are seriously dumber than you look.” 

“Which would be a feat, given how dumb I look,” Jhonnen muttered, staring down an angry mob with and Imperial traitor at the back. “Fact remains, I was tricked and blackmailed into serving what I _thought_ was the Republic’s best interests. Despite the skin tone, I’ve got no love for the Empire and they’ve got agents as high up as the stars-damned senate.” 

Maybe if he could use the force that’d be different, but he couldn’t and so it wasn’t. 

“What does this Senate have to do with Corellia?” demanded Darmas. “This is our planet… our fight!” 

Nevis Kitt seemed to see a glimmer of reason and turned to his comrades. “Who here knows this man?” he pointed to Darmas. “Is he a true son of Corellia? Who vouches for him?” 

The confused murmurs and “I thought he was with you”s that went up were like music to Jhonnen’s ears. 

“We’ve been tricked!” a woman turned to Jhonnen. “Here, help us hold the tunnel! Don’t let the Empire in!” 

“Code 11,” Darmas said into his wrist comm. “Code 11! I’m under attack. Send Backup!” 

Jhonnen whirled around to shoot Darmas when blaster fire behind him caught his attention. He fired at Darmas anyway and caught the snake in the back of the leg before a shimmer indicated a personal shield. He would have taken more shots but a trio of assassin droids had unfurled and begun shoot, demanding his attention.

“Corso!” Jhonnen dove out of the way as he shouted. “Ion grenades!” 

“You got it.” Corso rolled a couple over and with the droids paralyzed Jhonnen could take them apart with his blasters. 

He heard boots further down the tunnel and waited, blaster ready, for whatever else Darmas had thrown at them. 

Instead he found Master Sumalee and holstered his weapon before closing the distance between them. 

“Looks as if you did need additional support,” Sumalee said with something Jhonnen would have called a playful smile on any other mouth. 

Jhonnen shrugged. “I handled it.” 

Nevis Kitt jogged over from cover, his mouth set into a thin line. “Darmas got away. He’s fled back to his imperial masters.” 

_Should have shot him in the knee_ , Jhonnen cursed himself. _You really are dumber than you look Jhonny._

“Nevis Kitt, CorSec,” Kitt introduced himself properly. “Uh, sorry about that misunderstanding.” 

“I wouldn’t have believed me either,” Jhonnen shrugged. He kicked one of the droids. “These don’t look Impy.” 

“They’re local models.” Kitt said definitively. “Councillor Caicos’s factory.” He spat.

Sumalee frowned. “Caicos was one of the councillors who opened the doors to the Empire. Imperial troops are using his factory as a field hospital.” She looked at Jhonnen. “If Darmas Pollaran retreated with the Imperial troops, that’s where he’ll be.” 

Jhonnen folded his arms over his chest. He was _not_ going to shoot up a hospital. No matter how Imperial. 

“We’ve been trying to blow through the Caicos factory,” Nevis Kitt said. “But they’ve got it surrounded like you wouldn’t believe. We’ve planted a doctor on the inside, but he hasn’t found any weakness in their defenses.” 

“Getting places I’m not supposed to is one of my specialities,” Jhonnen pointed out, feeling admittedly not great about admitting to crime with a Jedi standing not two feet from him. 

“It’s soldiers out and casualties back in,” Kitt said. “Nothing else with a heartbeat.”

Jhonnen thought about the carbonite freezing back on Voss and elected not to mention it. He didn’t want to be groggy _and_ surrounded by Imperial troops. 

“If we convince them they’re under attack…” Master Sumalee nodded to herself. “Enough to send all their forces out at once.” 

“What?” Jhonnen asked. 

“If you draw them out with staged attacks at multiple locations, we can keep them occupied with hit-and-run-tactics. There’s minimal risk.” 

He did not like the way she said _minimal_. 

“Then our doctor can sneak you into the factory to find Darmas,” Kitt seemed enthusiastically on board.

“What?” Jhonnen said _again_. 

“I’ll mark the locations where you need to stage attacks. Once you draw enough Imperial troops out of the factory, you can go in and find Darmas.” 

“Our men will hold their attention while you rendezvous with Doctor Shi Bata.” Kitt nodded. “I’ll tell him to meet you at the triage station. He can sneak you in along with the Imperial wounded.” 

Sumalee looked him up and down. “You shouldn’t have any problem fitting in.” 

Jhonnen crossed his arms. “That’s racist.” 

It was also _true_. 

“Corso, stick with Nevis’s guys until I get through this,” Jhonnen huffed. “It’s more convincing with only the one body.” 

“We’ll rendezvous when you get that snake,” Corso said with a fierce smile. “I’ll give the Imperials plenty hell on my own.” 

“Of that I have no doubt.”

* * *

There was something vaguely satisfying about attacking comm relays. They were never as well defended as they should have been and taking one down ruined the days of your enemies spectacularly. 

“Got the tools _and_ the talent,” Corso announced as the last comm link sparked and fizzed its way to disfunction. 

“Does that make me the talent?” Jhonnen grinned. “Because we know you’re a tool.” 

“Ah shut up, Jhonnen.” 

“Couldn’t resist.” Jhonnen gave Corso a high five. “Go make some trouble, I’ll call if whatever.” 

“Right.” 

Corso headed of to rendezvous with Nevis Kitt and Jhonnen hoped his wasn’t sending his friend off to his death. He also hoped he wasn’t sending _himself_ off to his death, but that was just a general concern. 

He found the elevator into the droid factory and exhaled, trying to burn some of the worry out of his lungs. He hadn’t run solo in a long time, hopefully he wasn’t too out of practice. 

This was the harm in getting attached to people: made you useless when they were absent. 

Doctor Shi Bata was a human male, Jhonnen recognized him from the brief description Nevis Kitt had given just before they’d parted ways. 

“Doctor Shi Bata?” 

“Ah yes, the new patient. I was told to expect a captain with a serious leg injury.” 

_Oh crap._

In a low voice, Shi Bata explained, “Nevis Kitt said you need to get inside. The only way in is on a stretcher.” He pulled a blaster and shot Jhonnen in the leg, just above the knee, before Jhonnen could process what was happening. “With the rest of the casualties.” 

Jhonnen, now on the floor with blood pouring out of his right leg, bit back a scream and a swear. Tears stung in the corners of his eyes. “Son of a _bitch_ ,” he groaned, trying not to hyperventilate. 

Shi Bata helped him to standing and moved him onto the stretcher. “Quit whining, it’s just a leg. You didn’t earn your reputation without getting hurt worse than that.” 

“I bitched all those times too,” Jhonnen huffed, lying down on the stretcher. 

“We can fix it inside.” 

“ _Neat_.” Jhonnen grumbled and groaned through the clearance checkpoints, telling himself he was _acting_ not just _whining_ and that it was helping sell the con. 

Shi Bata pulled out a med pac once they were alone and administered it. “There, you should be fine. And you’ve got your choice of analgesics to steal if there’s any lingering ache.” 

“Thanks doc. Any idea where I should start looking?” Jhonnen stood up gingerly, the leg protested but held his weight. He was _absolutely_ going to steal and sell some analgesics if he got the chance. 

“Last I heard, Darmas Pollaran was being wheeled to surgery.” Shi Bata pointed. 

Jhonnen nodded and watched Shi Bata leave, he tested his leg a few more times, the right leg of his pants soaked with blood. 

Maybe he’d steal new pants while he was at it. 

Probably not. These had more pockets than anything he was likely to find. 

He snuck through the hospital, keeping a low profile and sticking to corners. A couple of times he had to pop a guard in the back of the head and stuff the body behind things. By he made it to surgery with minimal gunplay. 

“Once the docs change my face,” Darmas said to a hologram as Jhonnen snuck into surgery. “I’ll be dropping out of sight. I’m no good to the Empire if that idiot captain’s got the whole Republic chasing me.” 

Jhonnen crept closer. 

“I can take your place with the Voidwolf!” said the man on the other side of the call. “Anything he needs…”

“Your face is known too, Caicos.” Darmas pointed out flatly. “A Corellian councillor isn’t much use in bringing in underworld allies.” 

Jhonnen snuck all the way up to one of the doctor stations and readied his blaster, remembering that Sumalee wanted Darmas _alive_ but she’d said nothing about the state of his kneecaps. He wasn’t sure _how_ he was going to drag a screaming and bleeding Pollaran out of an Imperial hospital, but he’d think of something. 

“I brought him _Corellia_ ,” argued the Councillor. 

“Hiya,” Jhonnen popped out of cover and fired at Darmas, catching him in the shoulder. “I thought about sending flowers, but it just seemed so impersonal.” 

“Off the link, Caicos,” Darmas growled through gritted teeth. “Send backup…” 

Jhonnen shot him in the other shoulder as his hand shot for his sidearm. “No.” Jhonnen said. “And if you try it again I will shoot you in the fucking _elbow_.”

“ _Enough_ ,” Darmas growled. “I should have settled this with Sabacc.” 

“That would involve less of you bleeding on things, yes.” Jhonnen gestured with his blaster for Darmas to stand. 

“So, Captain, what will it take for me to walk out of here? I know you always have your price.” 

Jhonnen’s nostrils flared. He thought about how Darmas had threatened Panwa Muni and his crew and _now_ , now he thought he was going to waltz out of here for the right price. _What will it take for him to walk out of here_? 

Jhonnen aimed at Darmas’s left kneecap and fired. Over the resulting scream he answered. “Probably a miracle. Where the fuck is Dodonna?” 

“Spare me,” Darmas groaned, balled up on the floor clutching his bloody leg. “And I’ll give you my whole dossier on Dodonna. Everything from the day I recruited her. It was easy, you know,” he looked up at Jhonnen. “One offer of power she wouldn’t have to share with a thousand scrabbling Senators… she couldn’t wait to sign up.” 

“You have a way with women,” Jhonnen rolled his eyes. “And you’re going to the Republic once I have that dossier.”

Jhonnen looked over his shoulder and watched, to his surprise, a handful of republic troopers, ostensibly sent by Sumalee. 

“A good citizen to the end hmm?” 

“Still not a Republic citizen,” Jhonnen’s eyes narrowed. “You just fucked with the wrong man this time.” 

“Fine.” Darmas let himself be hauled to standing, favoring his injured leg. “It won’t be the _first_ Republic prison I’ve escaped from.” 

Jhonnen darted in, right into Darmas’s face, all red skin and bared sharp teeth. “Oh but it _will_ be the last one you scum-sucking motherless son of a Hutt. The only reason you’re still breathing is because a _jedi_ wants a fucking word with you.” He nudged Darmas’s shattered knee with his own and listened to the scream. “ _Next_ _time_ I’ll be a little less good humored about the whole thing.”

He waited until Darmas was led away to whip out his comm and contact Sumalee. “Darmas has been taken into custody and _I_ have his dossier on Dodonna.” He sounded precisely as pleased with himself as he felt. 

“Excellent,” Sumalee nodded. “I’ll have him kept under guard, in isolation. This line is secure. Transmit anything he gave you.” 

Jhonnen, still not entirely trusting that _anything_ was secure, transferred the data. 

“I’m sending the coordinates for one of our safe houses. Make sure no one is following, then meet me there.” 

“Send the coordinates to this frequency too,” Jhonnen said, sending over Corso’s holo. “So my buddy can meet us there.” 

“I don’t know what the Republic would do without you.” 

Jhonnen felt a small sliver of pride when she said it and set about trying to squash it as hard as he could. Sumalee didn’t sound like she was blowing smoke up his ass. She seemed… genuine. 

Which for one of Risha’s old friends/girlfriends/whatever was weird. 

Nice. 

But weird. 

* * *

He rode the rocket tram by himself, watching the scenery zip past and hoping that Corso got the coordinates, that Corso wasn’t dead, that neither of them were being followed, that Sumalee was on the level and that Darmas’s arrest hadn’t been a ploy by the man himself. 

Corso met him at the safe house entrance, beaming like a tiny sun. 

“Have fun on your playdate?” Jhonnen asked, unable or unwilling to admit that it was a relief to see the other man in one piece. “Did Sergeant Boom-Boom have a good time?” 

“I tell you, Jhonnen, these Corellians know what they’re doing.” 

“I figured they must, seeing as the Empire hasn’t stomped them all to dust yet.” Jhonnen headed inside. “We’d better find out what her Jedi-ness wants.”

Sumalee was waiting in the armory, looking over the dossier Jhonnen had sent. She looked up when they entered and didn’t so much smile as move her eyebrows in a way that indicated she was pleased to see them. 

“Captain, that dossier was incredible. Or all _too_ credible, perhaps.” 

“I aim to please.” 

“Unfortunately, Dodonna got wind of the arrest. She’s fled to the Voidwolf.” 

Jhonnen’s shoulders dropped. “And this is going to be my problem, isn’t it?” 

Corso elbowed him in the ribs. “ _Our_ problem, Jhonnen.” 

Jhonnen spared him a smile and was grateful that they were both sober or else the camaraderie might have heralded a surge of emotion from both men. And neither of them needed that. _Sumalee_ didn’t need that.

“We’ve traced her to the Museum of Alien History, which the Imperials are using as a POW camp. High Command doesn’t want to go any further.” 

Jhonnen huffed and folded his arms over his chest feeling petulant. He thought of Kira, her gung-ho attitude towards the Republic, and kept from mouthing off further. 

“It’s ironic that it took Dodonna’s patronage to turn your loyalties to the Republic. Can I count on you now?” Sumalee asked. 

Every iota of Jhonnen wanted to say no. No, this wasn’t his problem any more. No, he’d given them Darmas and that was enough. No, his loyalties lied with himself and his crew and one small strip club on Nar Shaddaa. 

_The senate’s a fucking mess, yes, but at least they're trying to treat people fairly. At least the Republic believes in freedom for everyone, not just humans and purebloods and people lucky enough to be Force sensitive._ Kira’s words rang in his ears. 

He nodded. “Yeah. I guess you can.” 

“Good,” Sumalee gave a very small smile, one that reminded him a little bit of Risha. “Part of the Selonian tunnel network runs under the museum. You’re the only ones who might be able to sneak in and find Dodonna.”

“Well at least I won’t be leading an assault or something stupid.” 

Sumalee chuckled. “We don’t have the troops to assault the museum directly. Anyway, isn’t _this_ more your style?” She looked past Jhonnen. “Curske?” 

A selonian walked up and shook her head. << That tunnel’s impassable. I told you that. It’s been abandoned for centuries. >>

“Oh? Jhonnen asked. _Abandoned_ he could work with, it was actually preferable. _Impassible_ , however, might pose a bit of a problem. 

“Captain, this is Curske. She’s going to help you get into the museum.” 

The selonian, Curske, looked less than convinced about that and it did nothing to bolster Jhonnen’s confidence. 

<< I can give you a map, but that’s all. It’s suicide. >> Curske chirped. << Those tunnels are old. The roofs have caved in. You would need to blast a path through the debris. >>

“Done,” said Sumalee with a smirk. “The Captain loves blasting.” 

“I thought you said _sneak_ ,” Jhonnen said pointedly. “This is feeling a lot less like _sneaking_.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” 

Jhonnen groaned and took the map, certain he looked less the dashing hero and more the petulant errand boy, which was fine, because that was how he felt. 

He and Corso left the armory and Jhonnen half-listened as Corso rambled on about his time with Corellia’s freedom fighters. It sounded like the other man had had a good time but the details slipped out of Jhonnen’s ears like water. 

Still, the chatter was a comfort and Jhonnen commissioned a pile of explosives. 

Corso slid onto the back of the speeder Jhonnen borrowed, because he didn’t want to risk his own and he might as well take the Republic for at least some of what they were worth, and set his hands loosely on Jhonnen’s hips without breaking the flow of his sentence. Jhonnen scooted forward to give the other man a little more room and took off towards the old Selonian tunnels. 

They set the first set of explosives and took cover a ways back until the way was cleared. 

“How’d you reckon the others are getting on?” Corso asked, dusting himself off. 

“No one’s called so either they’re all fine or they’re all dead.” Jhonnen knocked the dust off his palms. “And I don’t trust that anything on this rock could actually kill Bowdaar or Akaavi.” 

“That your brand of optimism?” 

“It’s about as close as I can get at the moment,” Jhonnen conceded. “I still feel like shit for not having noticed that Darmas was playing me. Well, I knew he was playing me, but I figured it was for the Republic and selfish gains, not the Empire.” 

“None of us saw it coming, Jhonnen.” 

“Yeah, but it’s my ship, my responsibility. And now I’ve dragged all of you into this mess with me.” 

“And given us the chance to be heroes.” 

“You’re the only person who’s excited about that, Corso. I promise.” 

They continued down the tunnel, planting explosives and taking cover when the way was blocked. 

Inside the museum, Jhonnen got an idea. He looked at Corso and grinned. “If we’re playing hero, we might as well settle into the role. Think we can bust open some of the POW cells?” 

“Do I ever.” Corso grinned right back. “That’ll teach these Imp scumbags a lesson.” 

They blasted open every cell they came across, until the Imperials running the POW camp had a full scale riot on their hands. A riot that provided cover as Jhonnen and Corso looked for Dodonna. 

And found her, bereft of her senatorial finery, on her hands and knees with a sponge scrubbing the floor, shock collar around her neck. 

Jhonnen wasn’t even able to muster real surprise at her treatment, though he had to admit a certain amount of dark bemusement with it. 

“You!” Dodonna noticed him and put the sponge down. “I assume you’re here to laugh? To mock my naivete? You can’t have come to kill me. The universe isn’t _that_ merciful.” 

“Oh I’m certainly thinking about it,” Jhonnen admitted. “Thinking _very hard_.” 

“Then do it!” Dodonna knocked the sponge away. “How can it get any worse? I sacrificed everything, for—”

“Your own little world to play dictator on?” Jhonnen cocked his brow. 

“For a promise that doesn’t matter.” Dodonna huffed. “After everything I did for him, he sent me here. Get me out of here and I will _help_ you destroy him! I want to see the Voidwolf _dead!_ I want to see him begging.” 

“It’ll be hard to see anything from the cell you’re likely to end up in.” Jhonnen frowned. “Because while I would _rather_ just kill you, you are not worth the Jedi Master that would crawl up my ass about it.” 

“You think the Republic won’t negotiate? With everything I know about the Voidwolf?” 

“Darmas knows more and he’s already in custody,” Jhonnen pointed out.

“I—I know his _plans_. He’s been assembling a massive pirate fleet, completely independent of the Imperial Navy. He’s, he’s going to strike at out main shipyards. Get me out of here and I’ll give you all my files— _everything_.” 

“Lady, I want you _incredibly_ dead.” Jhonnen said evenly. “I have wanted you dead for a _very_ long time. The only mercy you’re going to see is from the Republic.” 

“They’re letting _you_ represent them, right? Tell them this deal is _worth_ my freedom.” She produced a datapad and sent him a data packet. “Here, the files of all my communications with the Voidwolf. Everything the Republic needs to know.” She cleared her throat and put on a brave face. “Whatever you decide, make sure they get this.” 

Jhonnen’s frown deepened. “And now it is off to prison with you. Because Sumalee will crawl up my ass and die if I shoot you in the face.” He called for Republic backup to use the tunnel and come collect her. “And fair warning, I shot Darmas in the knee, don’t think I won’t get creative with injuring you if you try and run.” 

Dodonna frowned and let her lower lip wobble like she was going to cry before dropping the charade and huffing again. “Fine. Go to Councillor Caicos, he’s the only one who knows where the Voidwolf’s ship is. Don’t let the Voidwolf escape.” 

“I won’t, bye-bye.” 

He straightened a little when the Republic soldiers arrived and followed them out of the tunnels and back to the Safe House. Jhonnen dumped the speeder back where he’d found it and swanned up to Sumalee’s office feeling pleased with himself for have finished the job and a little annoyed that he hadn’t gotten to shoot, well, kill, either Darmas or Dodonna. 

Jhonnen shook the annoyance away. He wasn’t generally this bloodthirsty and he didn’t like it. It was enough, it _had to be_ enough, that Dodonna and Darmas were both going to go to prison for a long damn time. 

Sumalee looked up when they entered the room and spared Jhonnen and Corso a small smile. 

“The Voidwolf has a fleet he’s planning on sending after your shipyards,” Jhonnen said, bobbing his head in greeting. 

“That’s exactly what Dodonna just confirmed. She begged me to send you against the Voidwolf personally.” 

Jhonnen rolled his eyes. “So no matter who loses, she wins. Very diplomatic of her.” 

“We’re still recovering from Coruscant,” Sumalee pressed. “If the Voidwolf strikes our shipyards, it’ll cripple the navy. They could invade the Core Worlds!” 

And they wouldn’t stop with the Republic. Hutt space would be next. 

“You need to find out where the Voidwolf is now,” Sumalee said. 

Jhonnen glared at her because this _should not_ be his problem, but the glare dissipated. It _was_ his problem. This was everyone’s problem. 

If he had to pick a side, he knew which side he was on. Kira’s side, Corso’s side, the stupid goddamn Republic. 

His mother would be rolling in her grave if she’d gotten one. 

“Dodonna mentioned Councillor Caicos and I heard him talking with Darmas when I wrapped that mess up.” 

“Ah, yes.” Sumalee nodded. “Dodonna indicated that Councillor Caicos is the only one on Corellia who has in-person contact with the Voidwolf. You should be able to get coordinates for the Voidwolf’s flagship from him, maybe even piggyback onto the next rendezvous they’ve planned.” 

“Neat. Where am I going?” 

“The SIS has files on the entire Corellian Council. I can send you the address and security specs for Caicos’s residence. But,” she held up a hand, “he was paranoid _before_ the war. The entire perimeter of his estate is lined with camera and sensors. You’ll have to destroy them all to get in unnoticed.” 

“They teach B&E’s at the Jedi Academy these days?” 

Sumalee smiled. “Let’s assume that anything Risha knows how to do, I know how to do.” She cleared her throat and got back to business. “Once you’re past the perimeter, every entrance is equipped with neural scanners that only admit certain brainwaves. If you’re not with someone authorized, the house _will_ fry you.” 

“So seduce a guard and keep him interested?” Jhonnen raised his brow. 

“I would suggest a blaster to the forehead, as long as no one pulls the trigger. That would be… ethically compromising.”

“I promise all ethics violations are on me,” Jhonnen said with a small flourish and tiny bow. “They usually are.” 

“Good luck, Captain. Call me before you take on the Voidwolf, that’s not something you should do alone.” 

* * *

“So how long do you think Sumalee’s been wanting to break in here?” Jhonnen asked as he took out the last camera. “Because she came up with this plan _very_ quickly.” 

“Maybe she suspected Caicos was dirty.” Corso volunteered, always willing to believe the best of a pretty face even if Jhonnen had finally beaten the equality of the sexes into his brain. 

“Or maybe becoming a Jedi doesn’t automatically wipe out who you were,” Jhonnen mused. 

“Thinking about your lady friend?” 

“Perpetually,” Jhonnen sighed. “I just… it _seems_ like a lot of who Kira was survived her initiation or whatever Jedi do. Maybe she—”

“Isn’t pining after a jedi kind of a dumb idea, Jhonnen?” 

“It’s an incredibly dumb idea,” Jhonnen grinned. “But when have I ever shied away from those?” 

They made it into the house and walked directly into a security guard. With the seduction plan out the window (he’d never have convinced Corso to go along with it anyway) Jhonnen was forced to subdue the guard and plant a blaster against the man’s temple to keep him quiet and compliant. 

“All right, I surrender. Don’t shoot.” The guard held his hands up peaceably. “I was wondering when someone was going to get around to shortening “his excellency” by a head. I won’t get in your way.” 

“And I appreciate that,” Jhonnen motioned for the man to stand up while Corso took away his weapons. “But I also need you to take me inside, so nothing fries my brain.” 

The guard nodded and, with Jhonnen’s blaster as more of a casual reminder than imminent threat, walked them all the way to the elevator. 

Upstairs Jhonnen couldn’t help himself and started pocketing small valuables, grateful that, even with the right leg of his pants still a bloody mess, the pockets were all in good shape. They couldn’t take _too much_ , they might need to run after all, but the petty theft felt nice in amongst the thrilling heroics. 

Caicos was easily found, sitting at a large desk in an imposing room that Jhonnen suspected was _designed_ to make everyone not at the desk feel small and slightly insignificant. 

“The Voidwolf told me you’d make it here,” Caicos said. He was, as he had appeared on Darmas’s holo, a small weaselly looking human male with thin features and thinner facial hair. “But you’re too late. His flagship will be leaving Corellia’s orbit momentarily.” 

“Convenient,” Jhonnen pointed his blaster at the councillor. “Where’s he going?”

“Let’s not be hasty.” Caicos folded his hands in front of him and gave Jhonnen a greasy smile. “I hear you’ve gone a lot of top-rate work for the Voidwolf. What would it take to—EEK!” 

Jhonnen shot the spot right next to Caicos’s head. “Coordinates and flight plan.” 

“Intruder! Intruder! Come immediately!” Caicos screeched.

Jhonnen shot Caicos in the thigh as he started to flee, figuring that he could at least slow the bastard down and give himself a trail to follow. 

Blaster fire slowed Jhonnen and Corso down and they were forced to turn around and actually _deal_ with the guards. 

The private security was nothing to sniff at, but over the last few months, Jhonnen had faced down worse and with fewer grenades. He did love his grenades. He and Corso polished off security and took off after Caicos at a leisurely jog, trusting that he can’t have gotten far with a hole in his leg. 

They found him by the shuttle, bleeding badly. He looked up at them, hands up and trembling. “Please don’t kill me! I’m still young! I’ll do anything! I’ve got security codes for the Voidwolf’s flagship! They, they’re on my personal datapad. Take my shuttle. It’s already set to rendezvous with the flagship. Please…” 

Jhonnen picked up the datapad and made sure the councillor was legit before he sighed. “You know a minute ago you all but had the Voidwolf’s dick in your mouth. What happened?” 

“I swear, it was just about money! I’m not an Imperial! I know what you _do_ to Imperials.” 

“Mostly he does it,” Jhonnen indicated Corso with his thumb. “But point taken.” 

“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” 

Jhonnen shrugged. He hadn’t killed either Darmas or Dodonna and they had both certainly deserved it on a more personal level. “I’m mostly planning on stealing your ship, murdering your boss and pointing out to the Corellian resistance that the defenses around your house are down. Nevis Kitt doubtlessly has designs on that.” He nodded to Corso to make the call. 

Caicos gave him a wide-eyed, frantic look and then hobbled away as fast as his bleeding leg would carry him. 

“You sure letting him go’s alright?” 

“The pain or bloodloss will knock him down pretty quickly. I was serious about calling Kitt.” 

“I’ll call him on the shuttle.” 

“Good man.” Jhonnen pulled out his comm and called Sumalee. “Hey, I’m heading for the Voidwolf’s flagship.” 

“That’s the only good news I’ve heard in weeks,” Sumalee exaggerated (he’d brought her two felons earlier that day, because he was a dog on a leash but also a good boy). “Send me the coordinates, and I’ll try to get you backup.” 

“I was hoping for more of a ‘we’ve got this from here, go put your feet up’ response.” Jhonnen admitted, he could feel Corso glaring at him for it.

“We’ve got over a hundred major offensives around the galaxy, Captain. If you wait until we’ve got troops free, it’ll be too late. This one is yours.” 

Jhonnen groaned but nodded. 

“Stop the Voidwolf, Captain, and the Republic will recognize you as one of its greatest heroes.” She gave him a thin smile. “And _I_ will deal with anyone who questions your motives.” 

Jhonnen clicked the comm off and stared at the device. He hadn’t anticipated needing Risha to _do_ anything. She wasn’t the sort to risk her neck for someone else, no matter how charming she found them. 

He should have left _Bowdaar_ watching the _Tick_. 

Feeling hollow, Jhonnen clicked the comm back on and changed frequencies. “Risha?” 

“What’d you need, flyboy?” 

“I need you to assemble everyone back on _the Tick_ and meet me at these coordinates.” He sent them over and felt a sliver of dread drop into his stomach. She was going to say no. She was going to steal his ship and leave him to die. 

“How fast do you want us there, Captain?” 

Jhonnen almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stared at the comm and Risha crossed her arms and snapped her fingers. “ _Jhonnen_. When. Do. You. Want. Us. There?” 

“Uh, asap?” Jhonnen couldn’t quite believe what was happening. “Corso and I are taking a shuttle. We might need air support or if we can override hangar controls we might need help with the ship’s interior?” He swallowed. “This is our chance to take a bite out of the Voidwolf.” 

“Sounds juicy. See you there, Jhonnen.” 

Jhonnen felt like his legs had gone all wobbly. He shook his head like he was clearing water out of his ears and lead the way up into Caicos’s shuttle, Corso on his heels. 

“You alright, Jhonnen?” 

“I think Risha’s going to rescue us.” 

“And that’s got you—”

“Confused as balls, Corso. Confused as balls.” 


	20. Kennel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhonnen defeats the Voidwolf

Jhonnen and Corso made their way to _The Regnant_ , the Voidwolf’s flagship, and using the docking codes from Caicos’s datapad made it into the docking bay without any trouble. Feeling the holoportrait of his mother in a pocket, Jhonnen took a deep breath to steady himself before exiting the craft, grenades accessible and blaster drawn. 

He lobbed a grenade into the waiting security droids and took a security key off the officer who happened to be standing amongst them and was now in several pieces. With the keycard he overrode the security console that would give him access to the rest of the ship. 

He and Corso crept where they could and rained down death when that wasn’t an option. Jhonnen wished he’d ever bothered to study the schematics for big cruisers. He liked ships but at this point he was mostly just lost, trusting that the command deck was “up” and that that was where the Voidwolf was likely to be. 

It all got easier after finding the elevator and _confirming_ that the command deck was, in fact, up. 

“This is why I have a XS Freighter,” Jhonnen muttered. “One level is much easier to navigate and I _still_ have a place to put all my crap and cargo. You could never pilot this tub with one person! It’s totally impractical.” 

“It serves a different purpose.” 

“The galaxy would be better off without warships anyway. No one needs that many guns.”

Speaking of, they turned into a torpedo bay. 

“Hey Corso, help me break this shit.” 

A couple of minutes spent randomly plugging numbers and shooting holes in the consoles later and the torpedo bay was a happy mess of non-functioning consoles and missiles with nowhere to go. 

They found the Voidwolf, a rotund human male with an evil look in his eye and a bad attitude, on the bridge. Jhonnen and Corso dispatched the guards and made their way up the steps to the prow and found him in conversation over holo with some gang leaders. 

“Did I _ask_ for your credentials?” The Voidwolf scoffed as the trio introduced themselves as hardened murderers. “What do I care if you want to get yourselves shot first?” 

“Short sighted _and_ ugly,” Jhonnen gave a low whistle, blaster pointed at the Voidwolf. “Mama would have told me you’re a keeper.” 

“Are you offering to captain my fleet instead?” The Voidwolf lifted an eyebrow. 

“Who is this?” asked one of the murderers over holo. 

“That’s him. The one who found Nok Drayen,” answered one of the others. Jhonnen flashed them a grin. 

“Leave,” ordered the Voidwolf. “You know your orders. This is private business between the captain and me.” The Voidwolf turned back to Jhonnen. “Well?” 

“I must have a dishonest face, that’s the third time in as many hours someone has suggested I change sides.” His eyes narrowed. “That’s a _no_ if you’re wondering.” 

He fired but the Voidwolf had a shield up to deflect the first couple of shots. Jhonnen threw himself forward, knocking the Voidwolf off his feet and sending them both rolling down the stairs in a mess of fists and teeth. Jhonnen ended up on his back with the Voidwolf’s weight on his chest, pinning him in place as he thundered blows onto Jhonnen’s unprotected skull. There was a flash of silver and the Voidwolf produced a vibroblade. 

“Pity it ends here.” 

Jhonnen threw all his weight behind his hips to push the gloating human off of him and scrambled out of knifing range, but not before the Voidwolf slashed him across the side. Jhonnen cried out in pain but Corso was there providing covering fire, forcing the Voidwolf back to range. 

“What the hell did you tackle him for?” 

“It usually works!” Jhonnen growled and aimed his blaster. 

He wasn’t sure who actually shot the Voidwolf, but the human went down grabbing his right shoulder in his left hand, the right arm hanging limp and useless at his side. Jhonnen scowled at him and then shot him in the face. A couple of times. 

Just to be sure. 

He expected to feel _more_ , staring at the corpse of the man who had made his life a living hell, but mostly he just felt _tired_. 

Maybe that was the concussion. 

Jhonnen turned his attention back to the holoterminal and scowled at the assembled murderers and general criminal hotshots. “Hiya,” he said. 

“Do we call you _admiral_ now?” asked the female Chiss. “Who else would command such a fleet?” 

<< It won’t stay together long. It took a lot of threats and a lot of deaths to bring together this many ships with no grudges taking it down. >> The trandoshan said. << If you have orders for us, I’d make them soon. >>

Orders? _Orders_? 

Jhonnen didn’t want to give orders! He just wanted to go home. Maybe grab a nap. Stop bleeding. 

He looked past the holoterminal to the sea of stars and set his mouth to a thin line. “You know what? _Fuck_ the Empire, we’re all working for the Republic now.” 

“The Voidwolf just sent us an Imperial warship escort. Shall we start by destroying it?” 

Jhonnen nodded. “Do it.” 

<< You sure the Republic will accept our help, Captain? Sometimes they can be a bit squeamish. >>

“They said my methods were up to me. You’re officially my methods.” He killed the transmission and rolled his shoulders. 

“Jhonnen,” Risha sounded tinny as she came through his earpiece.

“Nice of you to join the party, Rish.” 

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve been monitoring the Voidwolf’s internal communications. He’s got a fail-safe set to destroy the ship!” 

As if on cue, the ship rocked. “Of _course_ he does. Because he couldn’t be a _regular_ motherfucker.” 

“Shit! That was the hangar with your shuttle. I’d start looking for the escape pods. Otherwise you’re going nose-first back to Corellia.” 

“Thanks,” Jhonnen turned to Corso. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

* * *

He woke up in the escape pod with what he was _certain_ was a concussion. A bigger, nastier concussion. He found Corso strapped in upside down and helped his friend out of the safety straps, wincing as they both settled with both feet on the ground. He offered Corso a relatively cheery smile. “And with _that_ ,” he gestured to the pod as they crawled out of it. “I think we’re done.” He huffed. “At least we had _better_ be done.” 

He called the Republic for a shuttle and when it arrived rested his head on Corso’s arm with only minimal throat clearing from the other man. 

“Concussion that bad?” Corso asked. 

“Or your arm is soft and I’m tired. Whichever makes you more comfortable.” Jhonnen shrugged his shoulders. “We should both check in with a medical droid.” 

“Good thought. I think you’re still bleeding.”

“I am _definitely_ still bleeding.” 

They were both looked over and some stims were administered before they checked their messages and found one from Risha with the hangar number where _The Tick_ was now parked. 

She’d flown his baby up in case he needed help and parked her back on Corellia so Jhonnen could catch back up. It was… sweet. It was also surprising, but now that it had happened, pointing that out felt uncharitable. 

Sumalee was waiting on _The Tick’s_ ramp, knee-deep in discussion with Risha. It was the most relaxed Jhonnen had seen either woman in… ever, actually. Sumalee smiled at him as he and Corso approached. “You have more than justified my faith in you,” she said, and then lead him _away_ from his ship to the observation deck where waited a senator, two men in uniform and a holo of the Supreme Chancellor. 

Jhonnen deflated. 

“Gentlemen, ladies. This is the man I told you about. Who destroyed Grand Admiral Harridax Kirill and saved our shipyards.”

<< My son is an engineer at those shipyards. You saved his life, >> said the senator. 

“Happy to help?” Jhonnen muttered. 

“Captain, this is Senator Rone,” Sumalee gestured. “Fleet Admiral Helik, Supreme Commander Rans. Of course you recognize the Supreme Chancellor. They’ve come to thank you for turning the Voidwolf’s fleet against the Empire.” 

“Uh… happy to help?” Jhonnen said again. He didn’t appreciate being the center of attention. “My crew did a lot of it. Corso, Risha, Guss, Bowdaar and Akaavi,” he gestured to each in turn. “It was a group effort.” 

“Captain,” Supreme Chancellor Saresh said, “I am pleased to present you with the Senatorial Medal of Service.” 

Jhonnen stared at her blankly. 

“That’s the highest civilian award the Republic issues,” Sumalee explained. “You have changed the tide of this war.” 

“I’m not even a Republic citizen,” Jhonnen pointed out. 

“Would you like to be?” Saresh cocked an eyebrow. 

Jhonnen blanched. “I, what? Is that an… is that even an option?” 

“Of course,” Sumalee said. “You seem to have a talent for this. Would you give some thought to _continuing_ as a privateer? Under my guidance.” 

Jhonnen’s jaw dropped a little. Was she _insane_? Being a privateer had brought him nothing but trouble and misery! Why the fuck would he agree to that? 

He thought about Kira, she’d be _over the star-damned moon_ if he were a respectable Republic hero, right after she finished making fun of him for it. 

“It’s not just my call,” Jhonnen crossed his arms over his chest. “I dragged them,” he gestured to his crew with a thumb, “into one mess, I can’t just drag them into another.” 

“I’m game,” Corso said excitedly. “We’re good at being heroes.” 

“Much as it pains me,” Risha sighed. “I agree with Corso.” 

<< Bowdaar will not leave you. >>

“My place is here, for now. And the fights are worthy ones.” Akaavi said. 

“I’ve got nowhere else to go,” Guss was, as usual, a little sad when Jhonnen thought about it. 

“Alright,” Jhonnen took a deep breath. “I guess we’re in. Same terms? You pick targets and I keep any incidental profits?” 

“Within limits.” 

“My pockets are only so big,” Jhonnen agreed with a shrug. 

* * *

Akaavi was away on business—having tracked down the man who slandered and destroyed her clan—and the ship was quieter than usual. Jhonnen enjoyed his downtime, losing card games to Corso and Bowdaar, watching Guss fool around with his lightsaber, watching Risha tinker with the engine. It felt like a chapter in his life had come to a close and Jhonnen was _glad_ for it. 

Things were… weird in a lot of ways. Just about everyone had sworn that they’d be with Jhonnen for the rest of their lives, and when Akaavi got back she was no different. It was strange, thinking that maybe this ragtag group of individuals might be reliable. Maybe he didn’t have to look over his shoulder because someone else was already watching his back. 

He hadn’t felt that way since the day before Kira took out the Ur’kossags. 

Corso had declared himself an uncle to any of Jhonnen’s future children which, given as Jhonnen wasn’t seeing anyone, was weird. Bowdaar had brought up “honor families”. Guss had said that, if Jhonnen had been his jedi master, he might have actually practiced with his lightsaber. 

Jhonnen was hiding in the engine room away from all the lovey-dovey stuff because it was _nice_ and that made him suspicious. The universe just wasn’t this _nice_ to him without demanding something horrible in return. 

He looked up when Risha’s shadow darkened the doorway. At least he could trust Risha to be cold as ice and vaguely disdainful of feelings. 

“Things on Dubrillion have taken a turn. The king put a death mark on Count Rineld’s head. When the citizens heard that, they rebelled.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“The king imposed martial law to stop the rioting, but _that_ got the aristocracy riled up. The whole planet’s going to war.” 

“Well shit, what do the Aristocrats want?” 

“Some support Count Rineld. Others remain loyal to the king.” She shrugged. “They’re all looking to benefit from the fight.” 

“Because people are people wherever you go.” 

“Needless to say, the count has his hands full just staying alive. But even with all that’s happened, he still wants to marry me.” Risha scraped her teeth over her lower lip in a rare display of concern. “I can’t keep putting him off. Any advice how I should play this?” 

“Be more gentle than usual whether you’re accepting him or not.” Jhonnen advised. “He’s probably under a shit ton of stress, what with the death mark and all.”

Risha groaned. “There’s no good way to let a man down—especially one who’s running for his life.” The holo beeped in the other room. “Oh, _perfect_ —time’s up. That’s him calling on the holo. Alright, let’s do this.”

“Sure you want me there with you? He might get the wrong idea.” 

“I’m sure,” Risha said. They headed to the lounge and he stood back while she answered the holo. “Merritt,” she smiled at the holo. “I’m glad you’re safe. From what I hear, the fighting got worse after you escaped.” 

“I cannot spare Dubrillion from war, but perhaps we can still create a better future together.” Count Rineld put a hand over his heart. “I realize forging a true relationship takes time, and our marriage won’t be consummated for sometime. But I am hopeful. My proposal stands, dear Risha. Will you marry me?” 

She looked to Jhonnen for an opinion and Jhonnen blanched. What did she expect _him_ to do about it? “It’s your call, Risha. Marry him or don’t, but I said I’d help you get that throne and I meant it. How we do it is up to you.” 

She looked back to the holo. “I… I feel like we’re rushing into things. We should take our time—for the good of Dubrillion.” 

The Count looked hurt, but not particularly surprised. “You’re absolutely right. Let us part as friends. Farewell, Risha. May the stars watch over you…” the holo went dark and Risha’s shoulders relaxed. 

“That ended better than I expected—except for that whole part with my world being at war.” 

“It’s not insurmountable.” 

“I didn’t say it was.” She walked back to the engine room, clearly expecting Jhonnen to follow, which, of course, he did. “You know, I thought there was going to be something between us.” 

Jhonnen sighed. “So did I for a while there.” 

Risha turned around and leaned against the console. “So what happened? Did I actually scare you off?” 

“A little,” Jhonnen admitted. “Look, Rish, I need some emotional vulnerability in a relationship. You always look out for number one and I respect and admire that about you, but it leaves me number two forever. How was I supposed to know that you wouldn’t just bail on me the first time I got in over my head?” 

“You’re always in over your head,” Risha pointed out. “But I get it, you mean like what happened with Beryl and I.” 

“I mean exactly that.” Jhonnen gave her a smile. “I like you a lot, can’t imagine a better first mate and we balance each other out well. But in a relationship? We’d be gasoline and a spark. Very exciting and then very disappointing for everyone.” 

Risha laughed a little bit. “So _friends_.” 

“Friends,” Jhonnen said. “Or family if you want to jump on the bandwagon with everyone else.” 

“I’m good.” And then she stopped. “You’re more than a friend,” she backtracked, looking a little uncomfortable about it. “You’re… you _are_ the closest thing I _have_ to a family.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll be here, Jhonnen, not just for you but for the rest of the crew and even your jedi friend.” 

“Thanks, Rish,” he opted to believing her. 

“That’s as mushy as I’m getting. Let’s go find some trouble.” 

“Aye, Aye.” He saluted and made his way lazily back to the cockpit. 

He pulled out his comm and called Kira, smiling to find her exhausted but in high spirits. “You’ll never believe the week I just had,” he told her. “Did you know I’m a bonafide Republic hero?” 

Kira snorted a laugh. “Tell me everything.” 

* * *

Jhonnen slid his ID, his actual ID, through the terminal when they touched down on Coruscant. He could feel eyes on his neck and face, people staring in abject surprise at the pureblood sith making his way through customs. He was stopped and searched and then apologized to profusely when security realized who he was. 

The address Kira had given him was to a swanky apartment with a good view of the Senate Tower. Jhonnen whistled as he took the elevator up. Growing up on Nar Shaddaa, neither of them could have dreamed up a place like this. 

Mostly because they were focused on having their own sky palaces. 

One each but close together. 

He knocked on the door and smiled when Kira opened it, catching her in his arms as she crashed into him. He squeezed her close, laughing, and let her tug him inside. 

“Nice place.” 

“I share it with Kat.” 

“How’s that, having a roommate?” 

“Don’t you have like, five people living on your tiny ship?” Kira questioned, one eyebrow cocked high on her forehead. 

“Six if I count and _the Tick_ isn’t tiny,” Jhonnen defended. “The novelty is that you’ve only got the one.” 

“Scourge lives here too.” She wrinkled her nose. “And T7. Rusk and Doc spend a lot of time around as well.” 

“But none of them were worth mentioning?” He challenged, lifting his brow.

“Kat’s the one I _like_ ,” Kira explained with a wicked grin.

“I understand.” Jhonnen nodded, still grinning. He hadn’t moved his arms from around her and Kira had made no attempt to get free, her arms draped languidly around his shoulders accenting the fact that she was just a little bit taller than he was. “Should I be worried about Kat coming home?” 

“Is there some reason you would worry about that?” 

“You’re a jedi, I’ve got my arms around you, other jedi gets tetchy, Jhonnen ends up in multiple pieces.” 

“I told him not to rush.” Kira tipped her head and touched her mouth to Jhonnen’s, causing him to go slack jawed. She laughed at him while he stared at her. 

He’d _hoped_ , certainly. But he hadn’t actually _thought_. 

“So, do you want to stand here gaping or do you want to race me upstairs?” 

“Hubuhwha?” 

“Pretty sure I was speaking Basic, Red.” 

Jhonnen kissed her back, hard this time, crushing her close. “I have never beaten you in a race in my life, but I’m willing to lose again.”

Kira grinned and darted for the steps, Jhonnen on her heels. 


End file.
